


The Riddle House

by PumpkinWitch000



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Gore, Horror, M/M, Mystery, No war, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Possession, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2018-09-03 13:32:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8715832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinWitch000/pseuds/PumpkinWitch000
Summary: Something nasty lurks in the Riddle House past the creek and over the hill. Beware the man who stares out those empty windows, don’t trust the birds that sing in the still. There’s a man who has fallen to pieces and a boy who got cut on the shards. When night blankets the Hollow, oh beware the Riddle House.

Secrets lay in shallow graves, and Harry discovers they may be all too easily disturbed. He has lived a life untroubled by the horrors of war, he’s on the fast track to the Auror program and everything is as it should be. Yet a simple game is the first string to begin to unravel his life at the seams. Harry and Draco are sent into the Riddle House on a silly Truth or Dare penalty game. Unfortunately the Riddle House has a hard time at letting anyone go.





	1. Into the Night

“This is stupid,” Draco whispered for the twenty-third time.

 

“Shut up!” Harry hissed for what felt like the hundredth time.

 

Blue-toned light streamed over dust covered furniture and glinted off gilded paintings. All of the paintings were ripped and torn apart, curling strips of canvas littering the floor. Cobwebs draped like lace over couches and under the coffee table. Harry tried to keep his breathing calm even as the smell of decay and dust filled his nose. Draco’s pale complexion was even whiter in the light of Lumos and his silvery eyes were wide and alert. They stood in the center of the desecrated room, wands out.

 

“Do you think anything is going to show up?” Draco asked quietly.

 

Harry snorted, “It’s just a dare Draco, and there won’t be any actual ghosts. Everyone knows the old Riddle house has been empty for decades.”

 

“This is stupid,” Draco repeated.

 

He didn’t bother answering as he stepped over a shattered wineglass, shards crunching under his shoes. Pin-dots of light reflected off his circular glasses and earthy green eyes. The house felt cold and alien, no light coming through the windows. Night spilled around the tattered curtains although no stars shone that particular night. It felt unsettling. Draco stuck to his side like glue, hissing complaints like an angry teakettle. If Harry didn’t know better he’d think he was the Parselmouth. They entered a dark hallway, gloom oozing from the shadows. A small scream broke the silence and Harry whipped around, heart pounding.

 

“Get off me! Get it off! Oh my god!” Draco shrieked, batting at his hair. A tangle of legs and a thick furry body were crouched on his silvery blonde hair.

 

Harry shot a Stunner at the fat black spider and the hallway glowed red before it fell off, landing with a thud on the floor. For a moment Draco just stared at it, his face a delicate green. Feeling sorry for him, Harry moved over and enveloped him in his arms. He rubbed his hand in small circles on his back as he waited for him to stop shaking.

 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Harry murmured, “Just a stupid spider.”

 

“I- I’m not _scared_ , Harry,” Draco sneered, although he didn’t move from his embrace, “It was just a shock is all.”

 

He pulled back and grinned at him, “Whatever you say, Draco.” Harry pecked him on the lips before they continued down the hall.

 

The manor was deathly quiet as they passed by the open door to a study. Inside Harry glimpsed books upon books and piles of parchment on a dust covered desk. A creak sounded overhead and they froze. Harry tried to calm his pounding heart but it was quickly becoming harder and harder. They should have never gone in on the stupid dare. He didn’t believe in ghosts, at least not the stupid way Muggles did. In his time in the Wizarding World he’d learned quite quickly that ghosts didn’t do haunting quite the same way. There was no reason for ghosts to be lurking within the Riddle house.

 

“Do you think there’s something up there?” Draco asked, his voice barely above a breath.

 

“No,” Harry said uneasily, “Must be wind.”

 

As they continued on Draco began to get crankier, “Why are we even doing this?! I can’t believe you’re going along with this Harry-“

 

“Shh!” Harry shushed, “We both lost the game, we pay the price.”

 

“I don’t want to get eaten by some ghoul, or- or covered in spiders and dust and-“ His list grew longer and longer but Harry tuned him out.

 

The whole reason they were in the manor had started with a ridiculous game. Harry guessed that he should have expected the outcome, but at the time he hadn’t. Sometimes he was prone to not thinking things through. It drove Draco crazy but unfortunately one thing drove Draco crazier: losing.

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

_Harry grinned at Draco. His cheeks were flushed adorably and his tousled blonde hair made him look delicious. They were playing Truth or Dare with a group of friends. Hermione was spooned against Ron’s side, her brown eyes practically melting as she looked at him. She was brown curls, pale freckles, and too big front teeth, Ron was fiery hair, sky blue eyes, and too many freckles to count. Blaise Zabini lounged beside Ginny, his dark eyes occasionally darting to the redheaded girl. Draco had told Harry that Blaise had a thing for her. The thought made him grin like an idiot._

_Seamus was on his stomach beside Dean slurping from a Muggle soda. The darker skinned boy was in a heated argument with him about Quidditch, Ron occasionally shooting in his input. Pansy somehow managed to squeeze in between Harry and Draco and he knew that black haired girl did it on purpose to piss him off. Pansy was perfect from her carefully manicured toenails to the immaculately straightened bob and makeup on her head. It blew him away how she could spend two hours getting ready in the morning. Luna was being, well Luna. Her unsettling pale eyes were peeking out from long blonde hair as she smiled at nothing. Probably Nargles, Harry thought._

_They were crowded in a circle on the floor of Harry’s room. Photos of his friends littered his room, stuck to his mirror and safely in frames. Every photo moved, the Quidditch players in yellow robes zipping around his room poster to poster in dizzying circles. A big four poster bed was near thrown-open windows. The setting sun was streaming in through pale curtains, outside a brilliant orange and pink sky. Green and gold was the colour scheme of his room. He loved it from the throw pillow of a big black dog Sirius had gotten him, to the shadows of a stag and doe painted on his wall._

_“Truth or Dare?” Dean asked Ron._

_Ron puffed up his chest and said, “Dare!”_

_Dean grinned, “I dare you to kiss Crookshanks.”_

_Ron’s nose wrinkled up, “Seriously?”_

_“You asked for a dare,” Blaise pointed out._

_“Bloody hell,” Ron said under his breath._

_Hermione fetched Crookshanks quickly. She always brought him over because Harry’s cats loved the ginger monstrosity. Under a chorus of ‘Kiss! Kiss!’ Ron laid a smooch on the squashed nose of Crookshanks. He spent the next few minutes, as Dean and Seamus roared with laughter at the look on his face, wiping his mouth. The dislike between him and the cat was clear. He spun the purple bottle they had on the floor and it stopped on Pansy._

_“Truth or Dare?” Ron asked._

_“Truth,” Pansy said immediately, fluffing her hair._

_“Who’s the last person you hexed and why?” He asked._

_She smirked, “I hexed Ernie Macmillian before spring break with a Hair Growth Charm. He was being a complete twat and wouldn’t stop boasting in my Charms class. Last I heard his beard had reached a foot.”_

_Everyone in the circle snickered, nobody liked the pompous boy. He was almost as arrogant as Percy and that was saying something. Pansy made a show of fidgeting with the bottle before she spun. The tip pointed at Draco and the blonde groaned while everyone else sighed in relief. Pansy was known for her ability to ask the most uncomfortable questions. She loved watching people squirm._

_“So Draco darling,” Pansy purred, “Truth or Dare?”_

_Harry’s boyfriend gave her an irritated glance, “Pans I’m not risking a Truth or Dare from_ you _.”_

_She giggled, “Come on Draco. It won’t be anything bad.”_

_“She’s lying,” Ron stage whispered._

_Pansy flipped her hair and examined her nails, “Ladies don’t lie. Draco. . .” She whined, trailing off with big puppy dog eyes._

_Draco snorted, “That’s not going to work Pans, ask someone else.”_

_“Fine,” She pouted before latching to Harry’s arm, “Okay Harry. Seeing as you are the nicer half of the whole, Truth or Dare?”_

_“Truth,” Harry said automatically, knowing better than to ask Pansy for a Dare. Knowing her it’d turn into strip poker way too fast._

_“What’s the kinkiest thing you and Draco have done?” She asked, smirking._

_Harry felt his face heat up as Draco yelled, “PANS!” Of course Pansy was in that kind of mood. She looked a smug as a cat in a coop._

_“I’m not telling you,” Harry grumbled, crossing his arms._

_“Penalty then,” Pansy said decisively, “What’s his penalty going to be?”_

_Seamus raised a lazy hand, “Thirty push ups.”_

_“Unimaginative,” Pansy said, dismissing it._

_Luna spoke up then, her voice ethereal as always, “He should have to explore the Riddle House.”_

_Dead silence fell as everyone stared at Luna in surprise. The Riddle house was an old abandoned mansion on Black-Eye Hill. It was just outside of Godric’s Hollow. Everyone knew the tale of the mansion. Fifty years ago somebody had murdered the Riddles in cold blood using the Killing Curse. However nobody knew what ever happened to the killer and the case went unsolved. The house was closed up for good and now the property was a popular place for teens to test their courage. It was said that if you entered the mansion at night you would never be seen again. Harry though the whole thing was bollocks of course but he couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine._

_“It’s perfect!” Pansy broke the silence, her eyes glowing with mischief, “Okay Harry, tonight you explore the mansion. You need to bring something back too to prove you did it.”_

_“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Draco snapped, “That’s a ridiculous idea!”_

_“Are you going to challenge the penalty then?” Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow._

_“I’ll take you in chess,” He said._

_“Bring it.”_

_The games were fast and brutal, both Slytherins skilled at Wizard’s chest. Draco’s pieces were bone white and always were cheering and posing arrogantly. Pansy’s pastel purple pieces taunted the other pieces expertly and referred to her as ‘Queen’. Two wins and three losses later Draco was defeated. Harry squeezed around Pansy and rubbed his boyfriend’s back as he argued with her._

_“It doesn’t count!” He complained._

_Ginny said, “She beat you fair and square Draco. Not that I want Harry to go to the mansion though,” She shuddered at the thought, “It’s haunted isn’t it?”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione said, “The Riddles were Muggles. Muggles can’t become ghosts.”_

_“So you think,” Ginny said._

_“There have been cases of Muggles becoming ghosts,” Blaise agreed, backing up Ginny. She threw him a grateful smile as he continued, “If their deaths are particularly violent they would become ghosts. Although I can’t really say their deaths were violent. Whatever bloke killed them used the Killing Curse.”_

_“I don’t care if it’s haunted or not,” Draco said, “Who knows what could be living in there. Rats, bats, mice, and ghouls, maybe even a boggart!”_

_“It’ll be fine Dray,” Harry said, rubbing in wider circles on his back, “I’ll go in.”_

_Pansy cleared her throat, “Actually Draco has to go as well seeing as he lost against me.”_

_“Pansy . . .” Harry sighed at the same time as Draco shrieked, “WHAT?!”_

_“Penalty is a penalty, mate,” Ron said, a smile hiding behind his words._

_At that moment Sirius’s voice from downstairs yelled that it was time for supper. The teens all got up and trooped downstairs to join the Potters, Remus, Peter, and Sirius for dinner. Harry thought as he looked around at all of his friends and family clustered around the table, that he couldn’t be in better company._

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

“Let’s go home,” Draco whispered.

 

Harry sighed, “Fine. Let’s grab something quickly and go.”

 

The door to the study swung the rest of the way open easily at his touch. Draco hovered in the doorway as Harry made his way over the books scattered on the floor. All of their pages were rotting or ripped. On the desk a single black book was untarnished. Harry picked it up in curiosity and read ‘Tom Riddle’ on the top corner. So it had belonged to the husband. Harry opened it and was surprised to find the pages completely blank, only the dates marking each corner. He flipped through it but there was nothing but bleached white pages.

 

“Harry,” Draco said from the door, the anxiety clear in his voice.

 

“Yeah, coming,” Harry said, sliding the book into the waistband of his jeans.

 

When he reached Draco he nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sound of shattering glass. It sounded like it had come from the way they’d come. Draco locked gazes with him, even his lips bleached of colour. Harry put a finger to his lips and dimmed his Lumos, Draco following suit. He stepped into the hallway and slowly inched their way back to the front foyer. The sitting room they’d passed through was different. The few photographs that had still been intact were now thrown across the floor, glass fragments scattered.

 

“W-what do you think did that?” Draco asked.

 

“Rat or something,” Harry said, unable to keep the uncertainty out of his own voice, “Let’s go.”

 

It felt like he couldn’t breathe again until they’d left the ominous house. The house loomed behind them, empty windows like black eyes watching them. The gardens all around the property were wild and tangled so they stuck to the path. The entire walk Draco kept up a stream of swear-words under his breath cursing Pansy and the rest of them. Harry couldn’t blame him. His legs felt a lot like jelly and he kept glancing back at the manor.

 

“I’m never fucking doing this again,” Draco said furiously as they finally left the property, “There are definitely things living in there! I’m going to hex Pansy into a slug next time I see her.”

 

“Yeah that place was pretty creepy,” Harry said, glancing back at the Manor again. A flash of white in one of the windows caught his eye and he stopped in his tracks. Someone was standing in one of the windows, he couldn’t make out any features other than dark hair and pale skin. His heart seemed to have stopped and then started going triple speed. Draco had kept walking and turned around to look at him, annoyed.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Th- there’s something there!” Harry said, glancing back at him and pointing wildly at the house.

 

Draco squinted at the house, “I don’t see anything.”

 

Sure enough the window was empty. Harry shook himself. He was being ridiculous there was probably nothing. As it was though he was more than happy to speed walk the rest of the way home. Godric’s Hollow was full of life even with the sun set. People were walking from place to place, cars trundling down busy streets. Harry listened to Draco discuss having him visit Malfoy Manor only half-heartedly. Ice cold dread seemed to have settled in his bones, the spring night was cold.

 

“Where were you pup?” Sirius asked from where he was sitting on the porch when they entered Harry’s home’s yard. He nodded politely to Draco. His wild black locks spilled around his shoulders and sparkling blue eyes watched them.

 

“Exploring,” Harry said.

 

Sirius gave him and Draco a once over and grinned, “Uh huh.”

 

“Come on Padfoot,” James said as he opened the door, “Not everyone has a libido like you.”

 

“Damn right!” Sirius said, puffing up his chest and Harry giggled, some of the tension easing.

 

James turned a stern look on Harry, “Where were you really Harry?” He looked at Draco, “By the way your father fire-called. You’re allowed to stay the night if you want.”

 

“I’ll stay, thank you. We were just exploring,” Draco said, backing up Harry’s story, “He was showing me around Godric’s Hollow.”

 

James gave them a suspicious look but he smiled anyways and said, “Okay. Come inside, Lily was worried sick about you both.”

 

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled abashed.

 

Lily fussed over them for a good twenty minutes when they found her in the kitchen. When she was satisfied that they were safe and in one piece, they both went upstairs. Harry took the shower first, his body needing a good wash after exploring the ever dusty Riddle House. Water verging on burning ran down the planes of his body and he sighed. He smelled like fresh apples when he left the shower and felt like he was alive again. The shower had chased away any lingering cold. He kissed Draco on his way back to his room. The blonde took his own turn and Harry knew he’d have a good hour. Draco spent ages in the shower, he was almost as bad as Sirius.

 

Harry flopped down on his green comforter and sighed. He held Tom Riddle’s journal above him and examined it. It was in remarkably good condition considering where he’d found it. Once again he flipped through the pages and found not a single speck of ink. It bothered him for some reason and he couldn’t quite place why. He rolled over to the edge of his bed and grabbed a Self-Inking Quill off of his bedside table. His teeth caught his lower lip to chew as he wrote.

 

**_Who is Tom Riddle?_ **

 

The ink was stark black against the pages for a moment, then shimmered and disappeared. Harry sat up, eyes wide and heart pounding. The page was blank, not a trace of his earlier words. Black lines began to fade into existence forming more words.

 

**_Who are you?_ **

 

Harry stared, his quill hovering over the paper. Hundreds of questions filled his head. Who, or what was writing back? What would a magical book be doing in the Riddle Mansion? They were Muggles. Had the killer left the book behind, but then why would it say Tom Riddle on it? He glanced at the door, sure Draco wouldn’t be returning. His quill scratched across the paper as he wrote a reply quickly.

 

**_I’m Harry Potter. I found this book in the Riddle House. Who are you?_ **

 

His reply and the previous words sank into the page and disappeared. He held his breath as the reply appeared.

 

**_I’m Tom Riddle. I was trapped in this diary when I was killed._ **

Harry’s hands shook as he wrote the next words.

 

**_Who killed you?_ **

 

The answer took a longer time coming. Harry trapped his quill impatiently, bouncing up and down with excitement. The idea of solving the case after so long made him thrilled. His parents, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were all Aurors and he wanted to help them. If he could help even in this tiny way then he would. Besides, his own sense of justice wouldn’t let him leave someone trapped in a journal.

 

**_I don’t know. It was all over very quickly. A flash of green light and then silence._ **

Harry bit his lip and scrawled out a reply.

 

**_Is there any way I can help you?_ **

 

The answer was faster coming.

 

**_Maybe. You’re a wizard aren’t you? If you can find a way to release me from this diary I could finally pass on. I’m stuck here._ **

 

Harry hesitated. On one hand it really could be Tom Riddle trapped in a diary, on the other . . . He mulled the thought over carefully. The book certainly didn’t _look_ dangerous. The idea of someone being trapped in a book in that dusty old mansion for fifty years made his chest hurt. He was a wizard, if he was able shouldn’t he help him? It was what his parents did, helping people. He wrote his answer.

 

**_How can I release you? Do you know of any way?_ **

 

A reply came quickly.

 

**_The murderer died in the mansion as well. When I passed I was able to see everything going on and I watched him perish. He seemed to have gone mad and some kind of spell consumed him. In his last moments he stumbled around in agony, when he finally died it was after falling down the basement stairs. Nobody ever found his body because nobody wanted to go into the house. If you can destroy the body you can destroy the curses holding me here. Dark magic lingers in his corpse._ **

 

Harry felt his excitement mount. The idea of returning to the mansion wasn’t thrilling, but he couldn’t just leave Tom. He didn’t deserve what had happened to his family and him.

 

**_I’ll help you._ **

 

The next answer came.

 

**_Thank you. Keep this book a secret._ **

 

He paused and raised an eyebrow. Why would he need to keep the book secret? If anything wouldn’t enlisting the help of his Auror parents help? A small part of him whispered that he should go alone and surprise his parents, but he tried to squash it. Draco was always telling him he was too reckless, he didn’t want to give his poor boyfriend a stroke.

 

**_Why?_ **

 

Riddle’s answer came quickly and the writing was slanted as though he had written it with urgency.

 

**_Only you can read what’s written in this book now that you’ve started writing. It’s unlikely anyone will believe you. There are many people who would use the body in Dark rituals. Nobody can be trusted._ **

****

Harry frowned as he wrote his next reply.

 

**_I can trust my family._ **

****

The reply was short.

 

**_I cannot. I need to pass on, my family misses me._ **

****

“What are you doing?”

 

Harry jumped at the sound of Draco’s voice so close. He turned his head to find Draco standing directly beside the bed. His hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, his chest bare and flushed. He was wearing soft cotton trousers with dancing Snitches on them. Harry felt a flush of warmth go through him at the sight of his boyfriend. He reached up and pulled Draco’s face close, kissing him. Draco quickly took control and deepened the kiss causing Harry to gasp against his tongue. He tasted fresh and minty.

When Harry had to break for air Draco rained butterfly kisses across his cheekbones. Giggling Harry shoved him away.

 

“Cutie,” Draco said smirking, “So what are you doing with that thing? Pans is going to want to see it when she comes over for tea tomorrow.”

 

“She’s coming over for tea now?” Harry asked, only mildly interested with his boyfriend looking so cute. He began to tease with the waistband of Draco’s trousers.

 

Draco purposely ignored him, “Of course. I know her; she’ll be hounding you for the details the second you leave your room tomorrow.”

 

Harry began to tug his pants down, “It’s a good thing I don’t intend to leave _our_ room any time soon.” Draco’s breathing hitched as Harry allowed his pyjama bottoms to pool around his ankles. Silk green boxers were tented from his very obvious erection. Harry ghosted his fingertips against the clothed organ, enjoying the way Draco squirmed. He began to rub and stroke it slowly the erection swelling larger under his ministrations.

 

“For fucks sake Harry hurry it up,” Draco snapped, pink staining his cheeks.

 

He stuck his tongue out at him before slipping off the boxers. Draco’s erection sprang free, pale and reddening with blood. Harry licked the slit with his tongue and Draco hissed under his breath. It felt good to tease his boyfriend and he began to lather and coat his dick with spit. His flesh tasted salty and musky where he collected drops of pre-cum from the tip. When he finally took Draco in his mouth the blonde was shaking. Harry bobbed and sucked as Draco uttered a stream of swear words, thrusting back. Silver eyes locked with emerald and Draco came, a long groan shuddering through his body as his seed coated the inside of Harry’s throat.

 

“You’re too good at that,” Draco panted before placing a kiss on Harry’s lips.

 

Harry just grinned, “Lots of practice.”

 

When they finally settled down to sleep Harry lay in the darkness listening to Draco breathing. The blonde held Harry cocooned in his arms their bodies slotted together like puzzle pieces. He knew that he would never love someone more than Draco Malfoy. That thought was both exhilarating and terrifying. It made it all the more difficult to decide what he would be doing about Riddle. He didn’t want to drag Draco into it. He would deal with it on his own.


	2. A Broken Clock Ticking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the worse. Harry discovers that he may have gone too deep, and it may be too late. Lies begin to unravel his perfect life at the seams. The clock has only just begun. Warning for gore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. THERE IS GORE. That being said, enjoy!

His throat was dry, his tongue fuzzy and heavy. Harry opened his eyes to see the pale paint of his ceiling. Warmth from beside him made him sigh, his hammering heart slowing. He rolled over so he was face to face with Draco. His boyfriend looked so young in his sleep, no lines of stress marring his face. Harry kissed his lips softly before rolling out of bed. The room was dark around him, silvery moonlight bleaching his floorboards grey.

 

In his dreams he’d visited the Riddle House again. It was just an endless loop of exploring the decaying insides of the house. Yet dread had followed him until he could scarcely breathe. Harry glanced at his bedside and saw the diary exactly where he’d left it. He wanted to help Riddle but . . . his stomach churned with anxiety. Shaking his head to rid the thoughts, Harry made his way across his room and opened the door.

 

The landing outside of his room was dark, no light coming from the crack under his parents’ door. Harry heard the sound of tinkling coming from the kitchen. It was probably his dad. He headed down the stairs and into the hallway. Pictures lined the walls, all of his family and loved ones. For a moment he paused staring at the portrait of him and his parents. Lily’s green eyes matched his own, both mother and child grinning in the photo. James was staring at them both with a look of adoration on his face. It made Harry’s heart squeeze. He heard the sound of plates being moved and continued to the kitchen. Moonlight gently illuminated the room, but he did not find his father.

 

A boy around Harry’s age was standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine in his hand. His face was proud and cold with perfectly formed lips and high cheekbones. He had wavy dark brown hair, his skin pale and snowy. It was his eyes that froze Harry in his tracks, they were glimmering red. He was the epitome of beautiful but it was warped by the blood thirst on his face. When he looked over at Harry a smile curled his lips.

 

“ ** _Good evening Harry. Your house is charming, very quaint.”_**

****

“Who are you?” Harry asked, wishing he hadn’t left his wand in his room. He knew if he yelled it would wake his parents, but his throat felt tight.

 

“ ** _You’ll figure it out eventually,_** ” He said, boredom lacing his tone, “ ** _Tell me Harry, do you know what a clock’s purpose is?_** ”

 

Harry stared at him, “I- what? What are you doing in my house?!”

 

“ ** _You brought me here,_** ” The boy said.

 

“No, I didn’t,” Harry said, shaking his head. He began to back up, “Look, you need to leave. My parents are Aurors they’ll arrest you.”

 

A smile bloomed across his features, “ ** _You can tell them little Harry, but it’s too late. You’ve begun the clock, it’s only a matter of time now._** ”

 

The young man took a sip of his wine and his smile grew. Harry backed up and tripped, landing hard on his back. Dazed he looked over to find a head beside his own. He screamed, Sirius’ dead eyes staring sightlessly into his own. Heart pounding he scrambled to his feet. His mother was what he had tripped over, her chest ripped open like a ribcage flower. Further down the hallway he could see his father’s body spread out, blood streaming from his empty sockets. Harry suddenly couldn’t breathe and the sounds around him warped as though underwater. Black closed in on the edges of his vision.

 

“Harry!” Someone was shaking him. He couldn’t breathe, could only see the lifeless eyes of his mother. Frosted over glassy green, fiery locks spread out around her, the scrambled mess of her innards-

 

“HARRY!”

 

He was sobbing, great shuddering gasps that wracked his entire body. The hands shaking him were gentle and lips pressed to his cheeks over and over. Slowly those hands and lips loosened the grip terror had over him. Harry could stop shaking, it was a dream. It had been a dream. He opened his eyes to see Draco’s terrified face. The blond looked like he was going to faint with worry.

 

“Harry what happened? Are you okay? Y- you were screaming and trashing in your sleep!” Draco babbled, nearly hyperventilating himself with anxiety.

 

Harry’s voice shook as he spoke, “I- I- I had a nightmare.”

 

Draco hugged him, his warmth enveloping Harry, “It’s okay Harry, it wasn’t real.”

 

They stayed in the embrace for a few moments until Harry’s breathing slowed. Something warm was leaking on his shoulder and he realized with shock that his boyfriend was crying on him, practically slumped against him in worry. Harry adjusted Draco’s weight a bit and his head flopped over, and then slid off completely. Warm blood sprayed over Harry’s face as he held the severed corpse of his boyfriend. His brain couldn’t even process it, he just screamed.

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

Harry sat up, gasping for air. Sweat soaked his body and he had to make fists to stop his hands from trembling. Around him his room was dark, only a faint light coming from the slowly lightening sky outside. His heart pounded like it was trying to break out of his chest. Harry glanced beside himself and mapped the planes of Draco’s sleeping face. Tears ran down his face freely and he fought the urge to throw up. He hadn’t ever had such a horrible dream and his mind was numb with shock. His parents’ corpses were burned into his skull and he couldn’t breathe.

 

It was through sheer willpower to not wake Draco that he managed the reign in the sobs that wanted to escape. Harry sat in the gloom of his room until the first rays of sunlight peeked through his curtains. His pyjamas were sticky with cold sweat and he grimaced. Pulling himself out of bed, he padded over to the closet and began looking for something to wear. He settled on an old Muggle sports jersey and form fitting jeans. Once dressed, he glanced back at his boyfriend once more to make sure he was okay, and then left his room.

 

He found his mom in the kitchen. She was bent over the stove, fiery locks held back in a loose bun. Harry hesitated in the door, his throat dry as he remembered the images of his dream. His mother was alive. She was okay. He stepped into the kitchen and she turned around to look at him with vibrant green eyes. Behind her some eggs were sizzling in a frying pan.

 

“Good morning sweetheart,” She said, smiling, “Your dad will be up in a minute. Did you sleep well?”

 

Harry had to peel the words from the back of his throat, “Yeah. I slept fine.”

 

If his mother noticed the lie she didn’t comment, “Pansy will be coming over for lunch, Mrs. Parkinson sent me a letter last night. I heard something about the old Riddle House?”

 

His heart seemed to flop uneasily, “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah,” She said, flipping the eggs, “Apparently Pansy was looking up the legend. It’s something James and Sirius would be interested in. They always run headfirst into danger.”

 

Harry grinned and said, “And I’m exactly the same huh?”

 

“You’ve always been reckless like James,” She said fondly, “Of course I’m sure Sirius rubbed off on you as well.”

 

“What do you know about the Riddle Mansion?” Harry asked casually, his heart thumping in his chest.

 

His mother shrugged her shoulders, “Not much.  I know the Riddle family belonged to a long line of prestigious muggles. Before their murder they were considered a very important piece of the town’s history, now they’ve become legend.”

 

“Did they ever get any clues about the guy who killed them?” Harry asked. It was the same things he’d been told before, but maybe his mother knew something more. She was an Auror after all.

 

“Nobody ever figured it out. There were rumors that the murderer had been related to the Riddles, but nothing was ever concrete. Are you interested in the Riddle lore?” She slid the eggs onto a plate and reached into the carton to pick up another one. Harry watched her break the egg open easily with clever fingers, thoughts whizzing around inside his brain.

 

He shook his head, “Not really. Do you need some help with that?”

 

By the time the rest of the house woke up, a full course breakfast was on the table. Harry grinned as a sleepy Draco gave him a kiss before piling bacon onto his plate. The blond’s hair was sticking up in every direction and the side of his face was pink with the pattern of his pillow. Harry contributed little to the morning discussion, too busy chasing Draco’s feet under the table. Draco rolled his eyes at him when he hooked his feet and leaned against him. Harry caught his dad’s eye and grinned.

 

He didn’t have much time to worry about Riddle as the day progressed. Draco wanted to roam the countryside on their brooms. Clean spring air caressed their hair as they soared over towering pines. Draco dove and weaved around him like a playful hummingbird, teasing and taunting all the while. It was terribly wonderful game of cat and mouse as they chased each other through the sky. Harry couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day.

 

“What the hell is _that_?” Draco shouted from above him.

 

Harry’s head whipped to where he was pointing. His stomach felt as though it had dive bombed the ground without him. The earth looked sick and blackened surrounding the Riddle House. Trees had curled in on themselves as though writhing in agony, their leaves withered. He hadn’t even realized how close they had come to the house. Even the air had taken on a metallic sharp smell. Nausea filled him and he veered hard to the side. Draco’s surprised shout followed him as he bee lined for the ground. He picked a small clearing in the woods far enough away that the earth wasn’t blackened and hit the ground hard.

 

His knees nearly buckled and he swayed for a moment, panting. Rocks and dirt kicked up as Draco skidded to a stop a few feet away, “What the hell _was_ that?! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” Draco snapped. Harry could hear the fear behind his voice and instantly felt shame.

 

“I felt sick,” Harry said lamely.

 

“Sick,” Draco repeated, “You could have said something instead of, you know, bloody suicide bombing the ground!”

 

Harry stared into the trees surrounding them, “I’m sorry, Draco. Just- what the hell happened to the house? It’s like everything surrounding it died.” He felt a shiver of fear run through him at the memory. Everything inside of him was screaming that something was very wrong.

 

“It looks like Dark magic,” Draco said, only a slight tremble betraying his own anxiety, “I’ve seen the effect before. Why would someone place a curse on the Riddle House?”

 

Harry’s mind flashed back to the diary’s words, _a spell had consumed him_. Could this have been what Tom meant, and if so, why was the curse only escaping the house now? If the murderer’s body was the source of the curse it should have been contained in the house. The only change was that he had taken the book. A chill went through him as he remembered his dream. Had taking the book triggered it? A sharp flick on his forehead made him start in surprise.

 

“Are you listening?” Draco said, his silver eyes narrowed in annoyance.

 

“Yeah, I mean no,” Harry flushed, “Er, sorry.”

 

Draco huffed, “I said, we should go back to your place and tell your parents. It’s nearly lunch anyways.”

 

Harry nodded, “Yeah that sounds like a good idea. Mum and dad should know about this. If it’s a-“ His voice faltered for a moment and he swallowed hard, “-a curse then the Ministry will probably get involved.”

 

He could tell Draco had noticed he was holding something back, but thankfully the blond didn’t comment. Harry kicked off hard and accelerated into the sky. Wind flattened his hair back and kissed his face with icy lips. He glanced back to see Draco following closely. The blond smirked at him before putting on a burst of speed and zooming past him. Harry raced him back home, diving and weaving around him. Occasionally he’d run his hands through white gold hair when they were close enough. He did everything he could to ignore the growing sense of unease festering in his gut.

 

The house was empty when they got home. Harry could tell from the moment they landed in the front yard. Despite that, he entered the house shouting for his parents. Silence greeted him. Draco stood at his side, looking around. His fingers closed around Harry’s wrist and he pointed with the other hand.

 

“Look there, they left a note.”

 

Harry spotted the white piece of paper on the table and murmured thanks before picking it up. It smelled of chemicals and was bleached white, muggle paper. He knew his mother must have written it before he even saw the familiar scrawl. As he read the letter his heart sank.

 

“What does it say?” Draco asked.

 

Harry handed it to him and the blond read out loud, “ _’Sorry sweetie, we won’t be there for lunch. James and I were called into the Ministry and the meeting will probably drag on. Something serious is going on. Be safe, love Lily.’_ ” He looked at Harry, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “Do you think it has to do with the Riddle House?”

 

“I don’t know,” Harry said, “It can’t be such a big deal that the Ministry is involved.” It sounded like a question even to him.

 

Draco shook his head thoughtfully, “I don’t know. Only something powerful and Dark could cause that kind of death and rotting to even the earth. It gives me a bad feeling. What if breaking into the house triggered some kind of curse?”

 

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell him about the diary, but he hesitated. He wasn’t sure what made him stop, but his voice died before it could leave his lips. At the same moment he heard the delicate tinkle of their doorbell. Relieved for an excuse to escape his own guilt, Harry bounded across the kitchen towards the hallway. When he arrived at the front door he saw Pansy through the glass. She raised a perfectly manicured hand and wiggled her fingers at him. He opened the door and Pansy blew in like a strawberry scented hurricane.

 

“God, what happened to your hair?” Pansy asked, before saying, “You know what? Don’t even tell me. I prefer to imagine that you and Draco were fucking like rabbits until now. Where is my darling housemate?”

 

Harry found himself at a loss for words, as it always was with Pansy. He absently ran a hand through his windblown hair as Draco drawled from behind him, “Right here. Unfortunately Harry and I weren’t up to that, but I’ll take your suggestion into consideration.”

 

“Bummer,” Pansy sighed, “So, I hear you two delinquents did some breaking and entering?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said, “We entered the house like you said. Done and done. Also you’re banned from ever played Truth or Dare again.”

 

She fluffed her hair and scoffed, “Excuse you, I’m not the one who broke the rules. So where’s the proof? You did take something back, didn’t you?”

 

Draco gave her a lazy look, “Of course we did, and it was a piece of cake to find. We brought you the diary of none other than Tom Riddle himself.”

 

“Prove it,” She said immediately, but her eyes glittered with excitement.

 

Harry left them in the foyer, taking the stairs two at a time. When he returned with the book in hand, Pansy and Draco were chatting quietly. They stopped when he arrived and Pansy’s eyes zeroed in on the black book in his hand. He handed it over to her feeling a tickle of apprehension.

 

“Merlin’s balls,” She whispered, reading the cover and then flipping through the pages, “Why is it blank though?”

 

“It was like that when we found it,” Draco told her.

 

She remained silent for a moment before looking up at them with gleaming eyes, “I need to tell you both something. Harry darling, you still have the tea I sent you for Christmas, right?”

 

“Yeah I still have your smelly tea,” Harry said, grinning when she flipped him off.

 

A few Heating Charms later and they were all settled around the oak dining table with steaming cups of tea. Pansy stirred her tea absently, curls of vapor drifting up from the reddish brown liquid. Harry had chosen peppermint tea for himself and Draco was sipping at an expensive Japanese tea. It had been a gift from his mother and Harry knew that the blond was secretly stockpiling the stuff. Narcissa Malfoy was nothing if not lavish and proud, she regularly sent gifts to the Potter household. Pansy let out a small breath and the air seemed to charge with tension.

 

“Have you two heard about the Riddle House?” She asked, her eyes darting between them both.

 

“You’re going to need to be more specific,” Draco said, his face giving little away.

 

She took a slow sip of tea before answering, “It’s being deemed Tainted Ground.”

 

Harry felt his mouth drop open as Draco hissed, “ _What_?”

 

“I’ve heard this through my mother, she has her ways being on the Wizengamot, and apparently a curse is spreading from the house. It should look-“

 

“Blackened and rotting?” Harry supplied.

 

It was her turn to look surprised, “How did you know?”

 

“We went flying this morning,” Draco explained, “And we went near the Riddle House. The earth on the entire property is rotted and dying. It looked like a curse, but _tainted ground_? The Ministry only reserves that scheduling for the Darkest rituals, where the runoff bleeds into every living thing around it. It spreads like cancer, it could consume the entire town!”

 

She nodded, “I’m not wrong, it’s happening. And it gets even more convoluted. Apparently the Ministry has been aware of this curse for a long time. When the Riddle family was murdered a Dark Ritual was performed in the house.”

 

“Blood Magic?” Draco asked, his voice hushed.

 

She shook her head, “No, Draco, Soul Magic.”

 

“What’s the difference?” Harry asked, confused when Draco’s face drained of any remaining colour, “I thought the soul was used in Blood Magic?”

 

Pansy scoffed, “You’re also from the Lightest family around, Harry dear, so you’re a bit out of your depth.”

 

“Pans,” Draco warned and she huffed in annoyance.

 

“I’m not going to sugar coat it,” She said, her eyes glittering dangerously, “Soul Magic is entirely separate from Blood Magic. It’s like comparing a Hungarian Horntail to a Common Welsh, completely different levels. Rituals that involve the soul are horrific, often the sacrifices die in horrible and unmentionable ways. Like stripping the skin off newborn children in front of their mothers, or draining every last drop of blood from a vampire and replacing it with poison, or-“

 

“Pans!” Draco said sharply, “Shut up! We get it.”

 

Pansy paused and shot Harry an apologetic look. He hadn’t even realized his hands were shaking, but his entire cup with sloshing with the force of it. The memory of his dream came back with a vengeance and he couldn’t help but think; _I did this_. There was no way taking the book was coincidence. Something was in that house, something worse than some ghost that steals children who dare break in. A heavy feeling had been pressing down on him ever since he’d taken the book, and only now did he notice it. His core felt cold. He felt cold.

 

“Harry?”

 

He flinched, so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even remembered they were there. Draco was watching him with concern. It took a lot more effort than it should have to say, “I’m fine. Sorry- I just- I’m not used to hearing about stuff like that.”

 

“Lucky you,” Pansy said, ignoring Draco’s glare, “To get to the point though, the Ministry has known of the curse for a while. When the Riddles had been murdered they entered the house to investigate. Four Unspeakables entered alongside two Aurors. One Unspeakable came out.”

 

“What happened to the others?” Draco asked. Harry dreaded hearing the answer.

 

“Nobody knows,” Pansy said, “That’s the thing, literally nobody knows. They sent a few more poor sobs in before they realized that the house seemed to be vanishing people. The Unspeakable that came out died shortly afterwards. Whatever Dark magic is in there corrupted his soul, like a malignant tumor. It latched on and drew every bit of life out him.”

 

Harry finally spoke, “What kind of ritual could cause that?”

 

Pansy took a moment to answer, but her voice was slightly tinged with fear when she did, “Something bad. They tried to seal it up but their seal is blown wide open. When you and Draco went in there, did you see anything?”

 

“The house looked like it had been torn apart,” Draco said, “And while we were in there something shattered a bunch of glass.”

 

For a moment Pansy looked like she was going to explode, before she let out a tiny whisper, “I’m really sorry.”

 

“You didn’t know it was dangerous,” Harry began, but she cut him off.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” She said, “The house was closed up for a reason. I shouldn’t have goaded you both,” Then as quickly as her apology began, it ended, “The book, the Riddle diary, do you think it has anything to do with the curse?”

 

Once again the window of opportunity came. Harry could easily have said something and they would have helped him hand it in to the Aurors. He could wash his hands of the fiasco. Yet the coldness in his chest deepened and he found himself unable to find the words. Ice seemed to have formed in his lungs; he could barely breathe let alone speak.

 

“It’s just a blank book,” Draco said, “What would the murderer want with some Muggle’s diary?”

 

Guilt washed over him so powerfully it nearly made him sway. _Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong,_ kept repeating in his head. He had to say something, he _had_ to. But he couldn’t. Just the thought of explaining why he kept the book a secret made him ill. Draco wouldn’t understand, Pansy would think he was hiding something more. His parents would look at him with disappointment. If Tom Riddle was really trapped in the diary he must know what ritual had taken place, or at least be able to describe it well enough that an Unspeakable would. Yet he remained silent.

 

Pansy thumbed through the pages again, her nails like blood against the paper, “It doesn’t make sense. If the house likes eating people so much, why are you two still here? And how did the seal break?”

 

Draco shrugged like it didn’t matter, but Harry could feel the frustration in the Slytherin’s voice, “I don’t know. This entire thing is a mess. Should we- should we tell someone?”

 

“Breaking and entering isn’t going to look good on your record,” Pansy said without much conviction. She sounded like how Harry felt; scared.

 

“We should tell someone,” Draco said, his tone more confident. He turned to look at Harry, “Your parents will be able to examine the book when they get back. If it is just a regular book then it won’t matter.”

 

The ice seemed to grow even colder; he could barely speak the next few words, “Yeah, sounds like a good idea.”

 

Something was deeply wrong, but his thoughts seemed to ebb and flow like a fog had filled his brain. Pansy and Draco were talking quickly, Harry just watching their lips move. While Pansy’s lips were covered in a deep plum, Draco’s were bare. His boyfriend had a habit of curling his lip when he was satisfied, at the moment he looked thrilled to finally have something to do. Harry could tell he was excited to be rid of the book and done with the mansion.

 

“Harry.”

 

He blinked in surprise and found himself looking into Draco’s eyes. The tiniest flecks of blue littered the ice of his irises. He really was beautiful. Harry had to pull himself out of his rambling thoughts before he could say, “Yeah?”

 

“Pansy is just going to be leaving, her mother wants her back for afternoon tea,” Draco said, a look of worry crossing his face.

 

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Pansy called as she crossed the room.

 

Harry snorted, “That’s not very much.”

 

He didn’t even have to look to know she was flipping him off. Draco was still studying him anxiously, like he was sporting a second head or something. Harry felt a trickle of annoyance. Of course his boyfriend was choosing the worst possible time to be aware of his feelings. It was inconvenient and he wished he would stop. They would get rid of the book and the whole fiasco would be done. Nobody would know he knew anything. He smiled up at Draco and willed him with all his might just to drop it.

 

“You okay?” Harry asked softly. Might as well turn the tables on the git.

 

Draco’s mouth hardened into a line, “I know what you’re doing Harry. I’m not going to ask whatever you’re hiding, but if it’s serious you should tell me.”

 

It was amazing how many times the window would pass by. He was growing quite tired of missing it, but yet again his chest tightened. Something was wrong, the wrongness seemed to have leeched onto him as well. He could feel the fog filling his head again and he sighed. The fog wasn’t enough to mask his growing sense of anger.

 

“Just leave it alone,” Harry snapped, “I’m a bit stressed about my bloody town being engulfed by tainted ground.”

 

Draco took a deep breath and when he spoke again his voice was much calmer, “Sorry. Look, let’s just destress. How about we have something to eat?”

 

Harry really wasn’t hungry, but he was desperate to patch over the sticky spot, “Yeah. Anything you want?”

 

The blond smiled, a mischievous look on his face, “How about we play a bit of a taste test game?”

 

That was how Harry found himself sitting at his table with a silk blindfold over his eyes. He listened to Draco striding around the kitchen, occasionally opening cupboards. It was both unnerving and exhilarating to be trusting Draco so completely. Oddly enough the thought of him hurting him didn’t even cross his mind. It was nice to just shut off his mind and experience. He heard footsteps stop near him.

 

“Open your mouth,” Draco’s voice said from his right.

 

Face burning, Harry obeyed. Something slippery and wet was placed on his tongue. Hesitantly he chewed it and citrus exploded into his mouth. His entire mouth tingled with the sharp yet sweet flavour and he was finished the skinned orange slice in no time. Draco continued to feed him different pieces of food. Some sweet and fruity, others tart or sour, even a few tasted like salty slices of meat. The entire time his mind was relaxed and free, just exploring the different sensations. Draco had been right.

 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Draco murmured and Harry heard him walk off.

 

The urge to take off the blindfold was overwhelming, but he managed not to. Around him he could hear the silence of the house, the slightest whistle of wind outside. Footsteps crossed the kitchen and he could feel the warmth of another body near him. The blond was as impatient as always and he couldn’t help smirking when hands traveled down his back. Lips pressed to his and he opened his mouth a bit. Draco’s tongue entered his mouth, hot and demanding. Shivers went all through his body, his toes curling and his dick hardening.

 

“Fucking bastard,” He groaned as the blond began to nuzzle at his jaw.

 

He rained kisses down his neck, stopping to suck at the sensitive skin. Harry couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out his lips. When Draco was finished he could feel his skin throbbing hotly. Teeth sank into the abused skin and he nearly yelled, his body shaking. Something had gotten into the bastard, but he was embarrassed to find himself throbbing with need. His entire face was burning.

 

“F-fuck,” He gasped, “What the hell?!”

 

“ ** _You’d look beautiful on your knees._** ”

 

His entire body froze at the sound of that voice. It was the boy from his dream. He ripped the blindfold off and found himself alone in the kitchen. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it would give out. What the hell?! Footsteps approached from the hallway and he scrambled for his wand. It was not the boy who entered, but Draco looking quite put out that he wasn’t wearing his blind fold.

 

“I wasn’t going to never come back,” Draco said grumpily, “You shouldn’t have taken it off. What’s that on your neck?”

 

Harry clapped a hand to his throat and felt the skin throb. He didn’t trust himself to speak. How could he even begin to explain? Draco was expecting an answer however and he had to give him one. “I think I bumped it. I thought I heard something and nearly fell out of my chair.”

 

Draco stared at him for a few moments before beginning to laugh, “Honestly Harry? I can’t even leave you alone for a couple minutes.”

 

He flushed and grinned sheepishly. He would be okay. Everything would be okay, he just needed to make it through this. Tomorrow the book would be gone, if not sooner. The house would be cleansed or whatever they did to tainted ground. Everything would be okay. He really believed it.

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

He was cold. Every breath he took shuddered in his lungs, every breath almost too painful to take. Frozen fingers flipped page after page of the diary. Everything was wrong. Harry sat hunched at his bedside desk, a lone oil lamp casting a warm glow over him. A black book lay open in front of him, the damned thing that had started it all. His chest ached as he flipped through. All of the pages were blank, no evidence of Tom Riddle residing in the diary. A single tear dripped onto the paper, shimmering and disappearing. Everything was so very, deeply wrong.

 

Harry rubbed his runny nose and tried to hold back the sob that wanted to escape. The pages in front of him were double as tears filled his eyes. He felt so goddamn cold. Slowly he raised his wand, staring at the book in front of him. He memorized every page, every notch in the cover. Magic crept through his veins and in the darkness of his room he allowed it to flow out. His lips formed a single word.

 

“ _Gemino_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo as you may have noticed I kind of disappeared into thin air. There is a very good reason for that. I burnt myself out. I wrote over 25,000 words in December alone and it depleted my reserves. That and I'm lazy at times. The thing is, I promised myself I wouldn't do this again. I'm not going to leave another fic unfinished. So, despite having forgotten my entire plot, I forged a new plot from the ashes. (Past me is an asshole to future me because I always procrastinate on writing out the plot even though I have the memory of goldfish) I'm actually quite excited for this story again.
> 
> Rambling aside, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	3. And the Canary Cries One Final Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh not really 'gore' per-say, but definitely torture. Read at your own risk.

The dining room was still around him. Sunlight glittered off silver goblets and platters, shining red where it spilled down fresh jam. High windows above him showed strips of the almost painfully blue sky. Ancient paintings lined the walls, sculptures reserved for the great Malfoys. If his father was to be believed, his face would too be carved in stone one day. Draco sipped his bitter orange juice and felt his mind drift back to where it had been straying since his first waking thought. Something was wrong with Harry.

 

He had known of course that there was something up ever since they returned from the mansion. Harry was jumpier, the bags under his eyes had deepened, but it could have just been a bad night’s sleep. Draco’s own dreams were terrible after having visited the house. Yet it hadn’t stopped. Draco wasn’t stupid -he was a Slytherin after all- he had recognized Harry’s lies for what they were. He was worried about something much heavier than a bit of cursed ground. That fact alone was enough to scare Draco silly. If only his boyfriend would open his heart to him, even a little.

 

“Good morning Draco.”

 

Draco turned his head slightly at the low yet crisp tone his father used. Lucius Malfoy entered from the Hall of Mirrors. His hair was wintry blond, strands falling like silk down his back. Like any proud Malfoy man, his eyes were silver and his skin and features fair as snow. Nothing showed through the Lord Malfoy mask his father wore so consistently. It was a bit depressing how his father felt necessary to play games even when they were alone. Draco could accept the jealousy he held for the Potters.

 

“Good morning, Father,” He said politely. Once again he sipped his orange juice, the tart flavour soothing his stress. His father took his time buttering his toast and slicing off the crust with wandless magic. By the time he had served himself a portion of roast duck mother had joined them at the table. Her platinum hair was held back in what would appear to be a messy bun, had Draco not known every action his mother took was intentional. She was still dressed in her night robes, pure white silk falling modestly around her slender form.

 

“Good morning, my dragon.”

 

“Good morning mother.”

 

Draco chewed a salty piece of meat, his mind elsewhere than morning small talk. His mother asked him about his homework and he answered with little interest. A steaming basket of fresh croissants was placed on the table, the sweet and buttery scent filling the room. Father summoned two to his plate while mother sniffed disdainfully at the sinfully buttery treat. All the clocks chimed for the hour and at that moment a falcon owl flew into the room. The bird landed delicately on Mother’s shoulder and held out the paper clamped in its beak.

 

“Front page as expected,” Narcissa said, her eyes darting across the paper she had taken from the bird.

 

Draco looked up at that, “Have you made the papers again mother?”

 

She smiled and said, “No, dragon. Your father has passed a new bill regarding magical item taxation.”

 

“Mm.” He accepted the papers that floated his way and pretended to read them. By the time he’d gotten to the third sentence his mind was already far away again.

 

The fact that both the Potters had not returned to their home that night was bothering him. They had waited for hours until Draco’s father had summoned him home. He always grew irritated when Draco spent more than a couple days away from home. It felt wrong to have left Harry there alone. If the meeting had dragged on past midnight surely that meant something bad had happened? He knew Harry had only grown more stressed as the night progressed. It felt wrong to have left him.

 

A familiar low hoot and a flash of snow startled him from his musings. He smiled for the first time that morning, raising a hand to stroke the side of Hedwig’s head. She hooted at him, sticking her leg out with a letter attached. He could almost hear his mother raising her eyebrow at the muggle paper. Draco offered the snowy owl a slice of meat which she chomped down before taking off. He read the letter.

 

_Dear Draco,_

_Harry told us you both have something to tell us. You’re welcome to come over any time this morning, although we have a meeting at one o’clock so before then would be ideal._

_Love,_

_Lily_

“Excuse me,” Draco said, beginning to stand.

 

“Sit down my dragon,” His mother said, her tone falsely sweet.

 

He paused, irritation crawling through him, “Yes mother?”

 

She nodded to his seat, “Sit, Draco.”

 

It was difficult to rein back the explosive sigh he wished to let loose, he settled for flopping back down in his seat in a decidedly undignified manner. Narcissa’s lips had thinned at the action, but she continued to smile pleasantly. Their games were so tiring. Mother took her time before speaking, delicately biting a jam covered piece of toast and swallowing it. She even made a show of wiping her lips daintily. Draco knew not to respond, any reaction would only satisfy her. He just wanted to go to Harry’s side. Something was wrong.

 

“Where are you off to this morning?” She asked, selecting fat red grapes from the bowl overflowing with fruit.

 

“The Potters’,” Draco said, “I have business to discuss with the Potters.”

 

Lucius made a low noise of disbelief, “What business do _you_ have with the Potters?”

 

He sighed, “Trivial matters. Just drama with Harry.”

 

“Hmph,” His father sat back in his seat and began to read the papers again. Draco was well aware of how his father felt about the Potter heir. Narcissa was not swayed however, her glacial eyes watched him like a hawk.

 

“May I leave now?” He asked finally, his patience waning when she remained silent.

 

His mother nodded, “Yes, dragon.”

 

He wasted no time leaving the table, only taking care to incinerate the letter he had received. The Malfoy Manor was cold and pristine around him, the halls impersonal yet familiar all at once. The nearest fireplace was in the first floor library. His father kept most of his less valuable books there and they were the least heavily warded. Draco entered through carved double doors, sunlight streaming across the room. High arched windows gave a peek at the lake across the grounds, cozy reading nooks under them. The bookshelves stretched to the ceiling, books occasionally darting out of their spots and finding new homes. At the end of the room was an impressive marble fireplace. No flames flickered in the empty grate. The air smelled of old books and Narcissa’s roses, it was home.

 

Draco flicked his wand at the dormant logs and a fire roared to life. Flames licked and danced across the wood as he reached into a pot on the mantle to pull out a handful of glittering green powder. There were so many things he wanted to say to Harry. Feeling slightly apprehensive, he dropped the handful of powder into the flames. With a hiss they turned poisonous green and he stepped into the now-harmless fire. He spoke the address clearly and was spun into darkness in a whirl of green flames.

 

When he finally came to a stop and stepped out, he was met with the sound of a low argument. The Potter living room was cozy and done up in warm colours, much more personal than the Malfoy Manor. It always felt like the house was welcoming him, not judging him. He made out of few hushed whispers about Harry, and that was definitely Lily’s voice. Draco cleared his throat and the furious whispering went quiet. James entered first, his obsidian mop and thin features the same as Harry. His glasses sat permanently lopsided on his nose.

 

“Good morning Draco,” He said politely. His tone didn’t give away his exhaustion but his hair was even wilder than usual and he had clearly not shaved that morning. Lily hovered at his shoulder, her face drawn and tired despite the smile she gave Draco.

 

“Good morning,” Draco said, “Is Harry awake?”

 

“I’m here.”

 

His first thought was that Harry did not look like he’d gone to sleep at all. Black and purple smudges under his eyes made him look hollow, his lip chewed raw. Any semblance of control for his hair had been given up. He looked like he’d been hit by a tornado. Draco took a harsh breath; something was very, very wrong. Harry squeezed his way past his parents and stood on his tip toes to kiss Draco. His lips were cold like ice.

 

“So what is it that you two have to tell us?” James asked.

 

Draco took a deep breath and squeezed Harry’s hand. His fingers were chilled and for a moment Draco was nearly distracted. Nearly. James and Lily were waiting so they wasted no time telling them the whole story. By the end James’ face may have well turned to stone. Lily’s expression had gone so blank that Draco was waiting for the explosion. It was Lily who finally broke the silence.

 

“Why would you enter the house?” She said desperately. Her voice gave away so much raw anxiety and fear it was painful to listen to. Harry visibly flinched at the tone.

 

His voice was harsh with guilt when he spoke, “We didn’t know mum. We just thought it was some stupid game, we didn’t know about it being tainted ground.”

 

“How did you know about that?” James asked, more resigned than angry that his son had meddled.

 

“When we went flying we saw the property,” Draco said, “It’s not hard to put two and two together when the earth looks like that.”

 

“Stay away from the Riddle House,” James ordered, “It’s not safe. We’ll need to look at Riddle’s diary as well.”

 

Harry left the room at that point, moving quickly and quietly like a shadow. Draco watched him go anxiously, something really felt wrong. He hoped they could get rid of the diary and any of the mess associated with it would be gone. It would be a relief to return to Hogwarts and get away from the whole Riddle House fiasco. Ironic that he would search for normalcy in a magic school prone to blowing up in one way or another.

 

The Potters were quite interested by the book when Harry returned with it. They cast a multitude of spells over, blue jolts of light running up and down the pages. The entire time Harry was silent his body rigid as he watched. Draco rubbed slow circles on his wrist but he may as well been trying to encourage a statue. Lily cast a final spell that made the book glow bright red before the light exploded into bubbles. She lowered her wand, her face pensive.

 

“The book checks out,” She said, “As far as I can tell it’s just some regular muggle book. I doubt it has anything to do with the tainted ground spreading. We’ll take it to the Unspeakables as evidence anyways alongside your testimony.”

 

Draco sighed in relief, so they weren’t responsible. He squeezed Harry’s hand and felt the shorter boy squeeze back briefly. James and Lily asked for their full account again to record for documentation, but it didn’t take a terribly long time. When they were finished they took the book and grabbed some biscuits before Flooing away to some meeting. The house was silent and warm with golden streams of sunlight spilling across thick carpets. Draco sat beside Harry on the couch, fingers entwined and a comfortable silence between them. Yet his fingers were cold as ice.

 

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” Draco asked softly, rubbing his thumb across Harry’s knuckle.

 

Harry stiffened, “Of course. I’m not a baby, Draco.”

 

He burrowed his head into the crook of Harry’s neck. His boyfriend’s scent was oddly sweet with a hint of apples. The sharp intake of breath he heard made him smirk, he placed a kiss on tan skin.

 

“You don’t have to keep everything a secret,” Draco said.

 

Harry trembled but his voice was hard when he said, “Leave it alone, Draco.”

 

He closed his eyes and listening to the frightened thrum of Harry’s heart. After several minutes of silence the beat began to slow, Harry’s body melting against his own. The sweet scent of apples surrounded him and before he knew it he was slipping away. Harry was so soft, so . . . cold. Draco felt Harry’s body rise and lower with slow breaths. A small whistle through his nose made Draco smile; his boyfriend had fallen asleep. The raven haired boy’s eyes had dark smudges under them and his face was drawn with fear even in sleep.

 

Moving slowly, Draco kissed the soft skin of his boyfriend’s neck. He adjusted the smaller boy’s body so he was resting in his arms. Harry felt so fragile in his arms and it scared him. He didn’t know what had changed in Harry, why he was suddenly so _haunted_. No matter what happened, whether his parents approved or disapproved, he would stay by him. The thought stayed with him even as he drifted into a light doze with Harry in his arms.

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

His first thought was that he had to be dead. It was the only reason that he felt so achingly cold, his limbs trembling as though he had been beaten over and over again. Harry tried to open his eyes and was met with only blackness. Panic filled his throat and he let out a gurgled cry of pain before stifling his voice. He needed to think. The smell of smoke filled the room and he could feel something scorching hot beside him. Someone was whimpering quietly, they sounded older and the voice was notably feminine. It crossed his mind to say something to her, but then a creak sounded like gunfire. The whimpering went quiet. Harry heard footsteps and his body cringed against the bonds that were holding him in place.

 

It occurred to him at that point that if he wasn’t dead at that moment, he would be dead quite shortly. He had every reason to believe he’d gone blind and ropes were tying his arms behind his back. Every nerve in his body ached as though he’d been tortured mercilessly. He couldn’t have imagined a pain going so deep it resonated in his bones, every molecule crying out in agony. The footsteps stopped beside him and he heard a low chuckle that made the hair on his neck raise. Once again it was the boy from his dreams.

 

“ ** _It amuses me that you would take the place of my dearly departed father. Perhaps his soul truly is crying out from the Hell I sent him to. Good evening, Harry._** ”

 

Harry tried to snap back at him, but his throat felt so raw he imagined it cracking and bleeding. It was as though he’d been screaming his heart out. As it was, he could hear clearly enough the smirk in the boy’s voice, “ ** _You might not be able to say much for a while. A shame, I assure you. I’m sure your voice would be very beautiful as you screamed your lungs out._** ”

 

The burning heat grew hotter and he heard the low murmur of a spell. His heartbeat picked up like a frantic bird trying to escape a forest fire. The older woman had begun whimpering again. He heard the sound of something sizzling and then the most horrible scream he could have ever imagined. It went through him, almost shaking the room and cutting off only to be replaced by another shriek. The woman’s voice could be the soundtrack to hell, she was in agony. Harry begged the boy to stop, he stopped even hearing what he was saying. He just begged him over and over, even as the smell of burning flesh choked him.

 

Finally the screaming stopped and Harry heard the boy laugh. His mind went red, all he could think was to stop him from ever making another noise again. Harry launched himself in the direction of the boy and was immediately smashed backwards. Pain bloomed across his cheek and he felt something crack in his mouth. Coppery liquid filled his cheeks as he hit the ground and he spat out a glob of warm blood along with what felt like a tooth. The entire side of his face was throbbing with white hot pain. He couldn’t help the angry tears he could feel sliding down his cheeks.

 

“Why would you do that?” He rasped, every syllable agony.

 

The boy’s voice was bored, “ ** _I will do, and have done much worse to achieve my desires. If I were you I’d be much more worried about yourself than some dead old bat._** ”

 

“Who are you?” Harry gasped.

 

“ ** _Honestly? You haven’t figured it out yet? No wonder your mother is a filthy Mudblood, apparently you’ve inherited her animal brain as well as dirty blood,_** ” The boy sneered.

 

He screamed at him, accidental magic spilling out and fizzling away. The boy deflected everything as though it was nothing more than smoke. Harry shook, he’d never felt such a powerful hatred in his life. If he could, he’d kill him. He could _feel_ the boy approach him slowly, hear the quiet whisper as he flicked his wand and murmured a spell. Then it began. Agony was the only word that could accurately describe it, and then, not really. The burning started in his toes, white hot lava searing him so painfully it was like they were being melted. He could smell his flesh smoking, the clothes he were in ignited and began to burn the rest of his body.

 

The smoke of his own dying body choked him as he writhed, screaming like he never had before. Every shriek was ripped out of him like his innards were being pulled out ruthlessly. When the burning reached his gut he experienced torture he could have never imagined, his fingernails ripped and broken where he’d clawed at the rough rope binding him. God anything would have been better. He would give anything to end the agony, to be free of the heat that engulfed his body so powerfully and wouldn’t let him die. Once again he heard laughter, but he could only scream. Death would be better than this.

 

Heat, agony, and a shriek that only grew higher. Soon he exhaled nothing but fumes as his lungs smouldered in his desecrated ribcage. He could feel the crumbling blackened bones that made up his remains. His skull was throbbing like a drum. _Why was he still alive?_ A low laugh made him turn his head weakly; before he remembered he could no longer move, and by all rights shouldn’t be hearing either. Every breath he took was torture but he heard the next words the boy said crystal clearly.

 

“ ** _I can do this to you Harry. I can make you experience this agony and it will never stop. Come find me little Harry because until you do I will drive you insane._** ”

 

Harry felt like he was being sucked through a tube and suddenly he was in darkness. He blinked, he could feel his skin and fingers again. Hesitantly he wiggled his hands and found rough bindings. _Thump_. His heart was pounding as he smelled the scent of burning, felt the heat scorching his side. _Thump_. A creak broke the silence cleanly and he heard the old woman begin to whimper again. _Thump_. Footsteps entered the room and stopped beside Harry’s head.

 

_Thump._

 

“ ** _Fancy a second round?_** ”

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

He sucked in air, maybe to scream, and promptly choked. Coughs wracked his body as he threw himself off whatever he’d been lying on. He hit the ground hard and writhed as pain rolled through his body. It felt as though every muscle and tendon he had had been pulled to their absolute maximum. Someone was shaking him, but he continued to cough, the horrible scent of burning flesh still filling his mouth. His head echoed with the woman’s and his own screams. He felt raw. When he began to calm, he looked up to find blue eyes. Sirius.

 

“Are you okay, pup?” Sirius asked, “You scared the shit out of me.”

 

Harry nodded, “Fine, just- fine. Choked on air when I woke up. M’good.”

 

Sirius helped him up and put him back on the couch he’d been laying on. Harry just focused on breathing. The smell of burnt flesh no longer lingered but he could remember the pain he’d felt all too clearly. A shudder went through him and he realized he was numbingly cold. Along with that came a healthy dose of fear. _What’s happening to me?_ Harry mumbled thanks to his godfather, but Sirius didn’t leave like he had expected. The older man stood there looking extremely concerned.

 

“Are you having nightmares pup?” Sirius asked softly.

 

Harry couldn’t find the strength to deny it, “Yeah.”

 

“Have you asked your mum for some Dreamless Sleep Draught?” He said, taking a seat in the armchair.

 

“No,” Harry admitted. He felt raw, gutted. His head felt a lot clearer than it had in a long while, but he needed to speak with Riddle soon. There was no telling how long the clarity would last. Harry was almost certain that the boy in his dreams was somehow tied to the diary. His heart flopped uneasily as he remembered the object he had hidden under a loose floorboard in his room. Guilt washed over him.

 

Sirius had waited for him to continue, but when it became evident he wouldn’t he spoke again, “You can tell me if anything is bothering you Harry. Lils and James told me about what happened in the Riddle House. Are you okay?”

 

No. “I’m fine, Sirius. I’ve just been having stupid nightmares.”

 

The older man searched his face.. Harry didn’t know what answers he found but his eyes were sad, “If you’re sure, pup.”

 

Something else occurred to Harry, “Where’s Draco? When I fell asleep he was sitting with me.”

 

Sirius smiled and said, “Draco has business tonight with his father. Some fancy Ministry gala, no doubt it’ll drag on well past midnight. Trust me, he was not pleased to go and I only got to see the end of the row with his father.”

 

Harry felt a flush of appreciation for his boyfriend before he realized with a jolt that it was already dusk outside. He could see a stretch of dark blue and the last wisps of red from a sunset out the windows. Why had he slept that long? His sleep had been restless at best lately, nightmares haunting his every step, so it made no sense that he’d managed to sleep longer than a couple hours. Warmth filled him at the thought that maybe it was because of Draco that he could sleep even a bit. He could still remember the pleasant feeling of drifting away surrounded by Draco’s arms.

 

“Hm,” Harry hummed, pulling his blanket tighter around him. It was another thing he hadn’t realized Draco must have done. His heart thumped unevenly as he said, “Where are mum and dad? We gave them our testimony about the Riddle House. Has the Auror Division had anything to say?”

 

“Asides from the fact that you’re lucky to even be here?” Sirius said dryly, “Not much. Someone is keeping this all hush hush. Even James doesn’t know what’s going on and he’s been the Head for two years now. Gotta love Ministry politics. Bunch of sneaky Slytherins.”

 

Harry grinned at him before his smile slid away, “Will the tainted ground spread through the town?”

 

Sirius said, “Not as far as we can tell. Something is containing it to the property of the house. Stay away from there, pup. It’s dangerous.”

 

“You all always assume I’m going to get in trouble,” Harry said with mock insult.

 

His godfather grinned and ruffled his hair, “We’d be fools if we didn’t.”

 

He forced himself to yawn before saying, “I’m tired Sirius. I think I’m gonna go to bed in my room.”

 

Sirius got up and placed a kiss on his head, “Alright kiddo. Goodnight. I’m holding down the fort tonight while James and Lily are at a meeting.”

 

“I don’t need to be babysat,” Harry said as he got up, still wrapping the blanket around himself. The unnatural cold clung to him and he wished he could at least get a little warm. Sirius chuckled at his words, his smile teasing.

 

“Of course you don’t, pup.”

 

Harry stuck his tongue out at him and began to make his way out of the living room. At the door he was stopped by Sirius saying his name. He looked back at his godfather, the older man’s eyes were watching him carefully. Sirius always managed to dance the line between adult and really fun brother, but there was no trace of mischief in his face now, “I love you, Harry. Just remember that.”

 

He flushed awkwardly, “Thanks Sirius. I love you too.”

 

The warmth of the statement filled him, and he found the strength to climb the stairs. Everything would be okay. His room was dark when he entered it, only the faintest light coming from outside his window. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his head raise at the way the darkness of his room seemed to _seethe_. He had been right, something was terribly wrong. A sinking feeling filled his chest and he only hoped he wasn’t too late. Harry snapped his fingers, fairy lights coming alive at his beckon. He made quick work of prying open the loose floorboard. The diary sat in the hole looking every bit as innocent as it had the day he’d found it, but now he could feel the difference.

 

Malice hung around the diary like a fog. Even the air had chilled being so close to it. Harry took a deep breath and picked up the book, ignoring the tendrils of cold that seeped into his hands. He placed it on his bedside desk and hunted for a quill. When he had his quill and inkpot set up a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin. Fear flowed alongside his blood and his hands shook as he opened the diary. The pages were blank, lifeless like perfectly carved bone. Harry shuddered as he wrote.

 

**_Are you really Tom Riddle?_ **

 

The answer came quickly.

 

**_Of course I am. You’re asking the wrong question._ **

 

Harry’s breath shuttered in his lungs. He wasn’t dumb; he could put two and two together. His quill scratched across the paper, every line so black it seemed to ooze out of the paper.

 

**_Does Tom Riddle have a son?_ **

 

He could hear a phantom of the boy’s laughter in his ears as he read the next lines to appear.

 

**_Took you long enough. My dear father would never admit it, but yes, he had a son. A brilliant wizard no less, a claim he didn’t have with his filthy muggle blood._ **

 

Harry felt the sinking feeling deepen.

 

**_Did you kill him?_ **

****

A single word appeared.

 

**_Yes._ **

 

Harry slammed the book shut, his breathing coming in gasps. Oh God. He felt unbelievably stupid for having ever trusted the book in the first place. Heart pounding, he scrambled for his wand. Flames burst from the tip and engulfed the diary, but when they cleared the book was perfectly pristine. He swore and backed away. His breath misted in front of him, he couldn’t help the panicked sob that escaped. Careful not to make contact, he used his wand to levitate the book into a spare travel bag he had.

 

Taking the stairs two at a time, he grabbed his broom from the rack at the front door and tore out into the night. Warm spring air ruffled his hair as he took off into the sky. Godric’s Hollow became a mess of sparkling lights below him as he rose higher. He had to keep it together. His hands shook as he held the broomstick, every urge in his body telling him to get rid of the book. The flight was silent and he reached his destination unnoticed.

 

Below him the lake glittered in the meager light offered by the rising moon. Waves lapped at the sandy embankment and he could smell the clean scent of thriving plant life. He took the book out of the bag and dropped it, watching the black speck until it hit the water with a splash. Harry sighed with relief and turned his broom around. Everything could go back to normal, nobody would find the Riddle diary again. The flight home was infinitely shorter than the ride there. It was like he could breathe again. He snuck back into his room without Sirius being any the wiser.

 

He took a shower once he was settled in, determined to wash away the cold that still lingered. The water seared his skin as it ran down the planes of his chest and stomach. Slowly the stress that locked him place ebbed away. He could breathe again as he lathered soapy suds across his body. It was liberating washing the fear away. As he stood under the spray of water he decided he would come clean with Draco. The blond was the one person he could trust with his secret. Maybe he would understand.

 

Harry stepped out of the shower, his skin flushed pink from the heat. He grabbed the fluffy towel he’d brought in and began to wring the water out of his hair. The mirror covering the wall over sink was misted, Harry could only vaguely make out his face. As it was a flash of red startled him and he stepped closer. He dragged his palm across the glass and recoiled instantly. His eyes were red as freshly spilled blood. Panic washed over him and he stepped back. No. Oh no. When he blinked they had returned to their regular emerald.

 

His good mood caved in completely as he finished drying his hair and body in hurry. The cold had returned and fear choked him. What if throwing the book away hadn’t destroyed it? What if the book wasn’t the only problem, what if there was something wrong with _him_? Harry’s hands shook as he brushed his teeth in a hurry, not even bothering to run a brush through his hair. He was way out of his depth and only now was he noticing the water over his head. He was scared.

 

When he entered his room he could feel the drop in temperature. Harry took a deep breath and turned the light on. A black book sat innocently on his desk, not a speck of water on the cover. He let out a strangled cry and his back hit the door. Fuck. Thoughts were running through his mind like quicksand as he picked up at the book. He felt hatred pour through him so powerfully he rolled back on his heels, he loathed Tom Riddle. He loathed the boy that could burn someone alive and laugh as though it was a wonderful game. That twisted laughter rang in his ears.

 

Harry didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. Book in hand he tore out of his room, tromping down the stairs and out the front door. He would destroy the book even if he had to burn everything to the ground. It wouldn’t hurt him anymore or torture his dreams. He wouldn’t let Riddle burn everything he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to hit the fan. You know it, I know it, Tom knows it. For some reason these chapters just keep getting longer. I actually had to cut off an entire scene because it would have bumped it up to 6,000 easily and I rather take my time with the scene by putting it in another chapter. That being said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Feedback is welcome.


	4. Flies to Honey

Low piano music drifted through the crowd, accompanied by a band and a woman with a sultry voice. She was pale skin, red lips, and a silver dress that hugged her body. Draco leaned against the balcony, the stone railing pressing against his lower back. Out here he was nearly safe from the lecherous gaze of the singer. The woman hadn’t taken her eyes off him the entire night. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head fall back, attempting to ignore the bubble of panic in his chest. His father was a dead man walking if anything happened to Harry. It felt unbelievably wrong to have left his boyfriend again.

 

No doubt his father would take him to task for some of the things he said during their row, but Draco couldn’t find it in him to care. His father would get over it eventually. He watched the crowd move, some people dancing slowly, others just standing in groups and socializing. They were all purebloods and high-ranking officials, wealth given away by robes that cost the same as a racing broom and fat gemstones around the women’s necks. The gala his father was throwing had attracted all the socialites like flies to honey, in the distance he could see his parents cutting through the crowd. His mother was talking to a rather plump woman and his father was stood with the Minister.

 

Draco enjoyed the occasional ball, don’t get him wrong, but tonight everything was grating on his nerves. He didn’t want to be surrounded by political allies right now, he wanted to be with Harry. Just Harry. A figure broke from the crowd and Draco smirked at the sight of Blaise. The Italian was carrying a glass of amber liquid in each hand. When he reached Draco, he simply held out a drink. Draco nodded to him and took a sip. The liquid tasted vaguely burnt and it seared a path down his throat. Warmth blossomed down his throat and throughout his chest.

 

“Fire whiskey?” Draco said, raising a pale brow, “Mother and father weren’t going to break that out till past twelve.”

 

“Consider us lucky then,” Blaise said, raising his glass in a toast before taking a sip. For a moment they stood in comfortable silent, the spring breeze bringing the smell of roses from the gardens. Blaise was striking tonight in pitch black robes with a burgundy undershirt. It complimented his olive skin, short black hair, and liquid black eyes. When Blaise finally spoke they’d both already made it through half of their glass, “You’ve been hiding tonight. What’s wrong?”

 

Draco sneered, “I’m not _hiding_.”

 

“Oh pardon me, I meant sulking in a corner,” Blaise shot back, adding after a heartbeat, “Is this about the Riddle House? A little birdy told me you guys actually kept your word and explored it.”

 

He sighed and said, “Yes and no.” Blaise just waited for him to continue so he did, “Harry has been acting weird.”

 

“No surprise there,” The Italian snorted.

 

Draco just rolled his eyes, “No, really weird. He’s been getting angry and he looks like shit-“

 

“Maybe that’s why he’s getting angry. I mean a bloke doesn’t like getting told he looks like shit,” Blaise said, smirking.

 

He snorted, “Sod off, you know what I mean.” His smile slipped away like quicksand, “Do you know what happened in the house?”

 

“A second-hand account at best,” Blaise said, inclining his head.

 

Draco quickly summarized the events, and by the time they were finished both drinks were empty. Blaise remained silent for a moment before saying, “I know one thing, you’re really fucking lucky you’re alive right now. Maybe Potter is just suffering from nightmares or something. Even lions can feel fear.”

 

He shook his head, “That’s what I thought at first, but it’s more than that. He’s hiding something, and he’s bloody terrified of something. I just want to know _what!_ ” He had to lower his voice, agitated as he was.

 

“Potter is thick, you know that. When he gets it in his head to do something he usually rushes off before thinking or including anyone else. It’s probably going to take him a bit before he realizes he’s hopeless without your Slytherin cunning,” Blaise said, both boys smirking at that.

 

A small pop sounded and a knee high creature appeared. It had washed out, vaguely pink skin and flappy long pointed ears as well as a nose that resembled a snout. The house elf blinked up at Draco with big blue eyes before squeaking respectfully, “Master Draco is being Firecalled sir, Nimphy bes telling you it’s an emergency from Misses Potter.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Potter,” Blaise groaned, but Draco wasn’t listening.

 

He took off through the party, moving as quickly as he dared while not attracting attention. Blaise was hot on his heels, muttering curse words and ‘Potter’ repeatedly. Malfoy Manor was in pristine shape for tonight’s festivities, the floor was nearly a mirror. Beautiful white blossoms adorned tables and many precious artifacts were out to display their wealth. It was a gathering of potential political allies so they were operating at top form. The house elves had been working around the clock to make sure everything was perfect. Narcissa had personally overseen the decorating. Draco ran to the nearest study and hurried to the fireplace.

 

“Lily Potter!” He said, taking the call.

 

Flames roared to life and the fiery image of Lily appeared in the hearth, “Draco! Is Harry with you?” She sounded close to panic.

 

Ice coiled in his gut as he said, “No. What’s going on?”

 

“Harry is missing,” She said, face drawn with worry, “He just disappeared from his room, I was hoping he was with you.”

 

“He’s not,” Draco repeated, his mind slowly being swallowed by terror.

 

“I’ll call you if we find him,” Lily said, and then was gone in a swirl of flames.

 

Blaise was standing behind him and gave a snort, “Potter’s gone and run away. Great.”

 

Draco shook his head, memories surfacing, “It’s not like that, something is wrong.”

 

He remembered walking in on Harry with the book open and a quill beside him. Of course he hadn’t thought much of it because Harry had quickly distracted him and he’d kind of forgotten. Later he could tell Harry was hiding something, going quiet at odd times and oddly evasive at others. It all clicked together and his mouth fell open. The book! It all started with the book! Something about the book had been causing Harry fear and stress. They’d given it to the Aurors, but there must be something more. And now Harry had run away and nobody knew where he’d gone. Draco felt the panic rising his chest making it hard to breathe, but he clamped down on it. Remembering his Occlumency training, he cleared his mind and focused on his one goal; finding Harry.

 

“We need to go to the Potters,” Draco said, staring into the grate.

 

“Why? They’re Aurors, Draco, they’ll find Potter before we ever could,” Blaise said.

 

He didn’t listen as he drew his wand and lit a fire. The fire turned green with a poisonous hiss when he threw a handful of Floo powder in. Blaise was swearing in Italian as he stepped calmly into the now harmless fire. He called out the address and then he was shooting through the Floo system. When the Potter’s living room came into sight he stepped out gracefully as he came to a stop. Lily was sitting on the soft squashy couch beside Sirius and both looked up when he entered.

 

“Draco? Why are you here?” Lily said, standing.

 

Sirius remained sitting but his blue eyes watched Draco like a hawk. Before Draco could speak there was a rush of emerald flames and Blaise strode out of the fireplace. He nodded to Lily and Sirius in turn, “Lady Potter, Lord Black, sorry for intruding, but Draco insisted we be here.”

 

“Lord Black he says,” Sirius groaned, “How many times have I told you, it’s ‘Sirius’ Blaise?”

 

“I appreciate the support boys, but we have it under control,” Lily said firmly, “James is at the Ministry now getting a team together to search for him.”

 

Sirius snorted and muttered, “If he gets the permission.”

 

“He will,” Lily insisted.

 

“He may be head, but Fudge loves doing anything to bother him. Harry has only been missing an hour at most, who would mobilize a team for that? For all we know he could be gone for a walk to let off some steam,” Sirius said, his words ringing with an unfortunate truth.

 

“Something is wrong with Harry,” Draco said, “He’s been acting weird ever since entering the Riddle House.”

 

Sirius sighed, his normally cheerful face drawn, “I know he’s been having nightmares, but anyone would after being in that house.”

 

“It’s more than that,” Draco insisted, resisting the urge to stamp his foot. He turned to look at Blaise for backup but the Italian just raised his hands and shrugged.

 

At that moment there was a loud bang and Draco swore, drawing his wand and spinning towards the source. A tawny owl had appeared in the living room with the noise, looking quite ruffled. Lily immediately hurried to the bird and undid the scroll tied to its leg.

 

“It’s from James!” She said, scanning the parchment, “They’re denying his request to search for Harry.”

 

“Bloody pissheads,” Sirius snarled, “We should look for him ourselves if they won’t!”

 

Lily read the parchment over again anxiously before saying, “We should wait for James, he should be apart of the planning. He should be here soon.”

 

Draco turned to Blaise, having heard enough. The Italian raised a dark brow and Draco jerked his head toward the door. Lily and Sirius were arguing, neither noticing when the two teens edged from the room. The night air was balmy and sweet, the scent of Lily’s garden filling their lungs as they exited the house quietly. Draco could feel his heart thudding wildly in his chest while they walked down the darkened road, every sense straining for a sight of his boyfriend. Harry probably went for a walk, he wouldn’t _really_ go to the Riddle House.

 

Maybe Harry wouldn’t if he was acting normally, but he wasn’t acting normally now. He needed to find him. The walk through Godric’s Hollow was quiet, neither boy speaking much. Blaise tended to be silent when he was concentrating so Draco wasn’t concerned, but it did lend a certain eeriness to the setting. Trees loomed endlessly on either side of them, shadows cast among their branches by twin Lumos’. They didn’t go through the center of Godric’s Hollow like when Harry and Draco had returned from the house, instead choosing to go the faster way around the edge.

 

When they reached Black-Eye Hill they were both panting slightly. Draco wasn’t used to walking places, being wizard-born and pureblood at that, but he ignored the stitch in his side. The greenery at the base of the hill was untouched, yet he had a feeling it wouldn’t remain that way. He glanced at Blaise and the other boy raised his wand slightly higher, shrugging. No point in getting cold feet now, he thought grimly even as his heart thrummed wildly in his chest. Fear had settled on his skin like a layer of poison, making his wand-hand tremble slightly. He thought about Harry being in the house and his grip steadied, giving him the strength to plunge up the path on the hill.

 

“If we die, I’m killing you,” Blaise said under his breath, following.

 

“Such confidence in our abilities,” Draco replied sarcastically, eyes glued to the trees.

 

The taint made itself known only a couple of minutes into their walk up the hill. It was simply there, a clear line cut between thriving greenery and withered blackened plants. Blaise swore at the sight and Draco closed his eyes briefly. Past this point they really might die. He didn’t want to die, he wanted to live so badly his skin felt like it was going to crawl off him in fear. Yet his desire to find Harry was just as strong.

 

“Are you close enough to use that Tracking spell you showed me?” Draco asked.

 

“If he’s in the house, I should be,” Blaise said, extinguishing his Lumos. He waved his wand through the air and began murmuring in Latin. Thin threads of golden light collected on his wand tip as he waved it, wrapping around and creating a glowing ball. Finally a thread shot out of the tip, shooting off into the darkness and disappearing among the trees.

 

“He’s actually in the house,” Blaise said, his voice numb with disbelief, “You’ve got to be joking! Is he mad?!”

 

Draco swayed where he was standing, begging himself to remain calm even as the earth wanted to open up and swallow him. Panicking wouldn’t help Harry. He swallowed hard and met Blaise’s eyes, “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”

 

The Italian snorted, “Yes because letting you go in there alone is such a great idea. I must be mad as well, but I’m coming with.”

 

“Thank you,” He said quietly, putting enough emotion into the words that Blaise inclined his head.

 

“You’ll be paying me back later, don’t worry.”

 

Following the thread on Blaise’s wand, they pressed forward. The darkness seemed to seethe around them, moving out of the corner of his eye and oddly thick when it shouldn’t be. He didn’t want to be here, walking up a hill surrounded by dead plants and an ever-mounting dread in his heart. He wasn’t brave or Gryffindor or _stupid_ enough to come here. But Harry was at the end of that golden thread, and he’d be Gryffindor and brave and stupid if it meant getting him back. Images kept floating behind his eyes, Harry dead, Harry injured, Harry corrupted and gone mad. Only his Occlumency training kept him from losing his shit completely.

 

He was distracted enough that he didn’t notice immediately the shadow that was oddly lain across the path. What he did notice was Blaise swearing and a moan that chilled him to his bones. The shadow rose from the ground, white eyes staring madly at them as the humanoid shape stumbled towards them. Its mouth was gaping, a long groan like wind coming from a cave endlessly dragged out of it. His heart was in his throat and he didn’t immediately react. It reached a hand dripping with shadows towards him, any moment it would touch him- Then it was simply gone, Blaise’s Stunner cutting through it and dissipating it.

 

“What the _hell_ was that?!” Blaise said, scanning the darkness.

 

“I- I don’t know,” Draco said, shaken, “Do you think there’s more?”

 

Blaise let out a bark of humourless laughter, “I think we’d be idiots if we weren’t prepared for it. _Stupefy!”_

 

A bolt of red light shot past Draco, destroying the shadow that had attempted to sneak up on him. Draco clutched his wand tightly swinging his head around as he scanned the trees with new eyes. The bark itself was peeling away from the trees, most leaves fallen and crackling underfoot. He tried to calm himself, focusing instead on channeling the emotions through his wand. His Lumos grew brighter, stripping away more darkness.

 

“Let’s go,” He whispered.

 

The hadn’t gone even ten feet before another shadowy form was attacking them. This time Draco was ready however, and it was his Stunner that rent the shadows apart. Briefly he thought about how much underage magic they were doing, no doubt his father would be pissed. He only had to remember the Ministry had denied to search for Harry though and his worry faded away. Not to mention there were no Muggles around and this was a life-threatening situation. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if one of those shadows got a hold of them. And he really didn’t want to think about Harry having traveled through these woods alone.

 

Progress was slow as they made their way to the house. The shadows came relentlessly, popping out from under rocks and behind bushes. Luckily they were easily driven back by a simple Stunner, but by the time they broke through the treeline they were both sweating from magical exhaustion. The Riddle House stood on the crest of the hill, its windows like empty eyes in the darkness. High above them the moon hung in the sky, little more than a sliver. The earth around the house was barren, not even grass growing at this point. Once flourishing gardens had withered away and surrounding trees were curled in on themselves as though in agony. Blaise’s tracking spell thread led directly into the house.

 

_Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay-_

 

Draco led the way to the house, his stomach doing summersaults inside of him. The air smelled sharper here, as though someone had spilled Muggle chemicals. As he reached the door a shadow poured out of the keyhole, surging towards him. Its eyes were empty white, mindlessly staring into his own. He cast a Stunner, briefly dousing them in darkness only rent by a red glow, before quickly recasting his Lumos. The shadow was gone. He swallowed hard and opened the door.

 

Light spilled into the desecrated foyer, glinting off shards of glass littering the floor. It was much the same as it’d been, cobwebs everywhere and most things broken. He had to resist the urge to sneeze as dust filled his nose. For a moment he thought a shadow was sitting in the center of the room, but then he recognized the head of dark hair. His heart gave a lurch and he stepped forward cautiously, angling his wand so more light would fall onto the hunched form.

 

“Harry?” He whispered, his voice coming out as little more than a croak.

 

Harry muttered something and Draco drew nearer, “What?”

 

“Make it stop,” Harry said, his voice cracking like shattered glass. His head turned towards Draco to show red-rimmed eyes and a haunted face. Tears were streaming down his face and he clutched at his temples before screaming, “MAKE IT STOP!”

 

“Make what stop?!” Draco asked, throwing caution the wind and falling to his knees beside Harry. He wove his arms around his boyfriend’s shaking shoulders and searched for any signs of curses. Seeing him cry was like a kick to the chest, he’d only seen Harry cry a handful of times. Blaise entered the room behind him, but remained silent as he closed the door.

 

“He’s in my head!” Harry gasped, his fists twisting in Draco’s robes, “He’s in my head and he won’t get out! He’s going to kill- he’s going to-“

 

He dissolved into shuddering sobs and Draco held him close, his heart leaping wildly. Harry just burrowed his head into his chest as though trying to hide. Draco glanced at Blaise and the dark eyed wizard drew his wand, casting a quick diagnostic spell. It glowed a muted pink, he wasn’t under the influence of anything. Well at least anything the spell was capable of detecting. Draco murmured soothing words, promising him it would be okay and a bunch of other smooshy crap. He didn’t know if he believed it himself, but for Harry he wanted to. Finally the gasps wracking Harry’s body slowed and he relaxed slightly in Draco’s arms.

 

“What happened, Harry?” Draco asked softly, running a hand through Harry’s hair like he was petting a cat. His boyfriend leaned into his touch as though desperate for it, and he was as cold as ice.

 

“It was the fucking book,” He hissed, each word nearly Parseltongue with the loathing in his voice, “I was so stupid- he was a liar all along.”

 

Blaise cleared his throat, causing Harry’s head to whip up as though he hadn’t noticed him, “Maybe start from the beginning Potter?”

 

In the light of the Lumos charm, Draco could barely make out the blush that stained the raven’s cheeks, “It was the book. The first night we had it I wrote in the book on random, my words disappeared, and the book wrote back,” He swallowed hard, eyes haunted as he was lost in memory, “I was a bloody idiot!” He exploded, making Draco jump and nearly shit himself, “Tom Riddle Junior had a son also named Tom Riddle, and he was a wizard. He hates muggles and hated his father so I bet that’s why he killed the lot of them.”

 

Harry was breathing hard like he was running a race, the words just pouring out now, “When I wrote in the book the youngest Riddle pretended to be his father to trick me. He-“ His words dried up and his face was a cherry at this point, “He pretended that he needed to pass on to be with his family and he was trapped in the book, and to help him pass on I needed to destroy the body of the murderer.”

 

“Conveniently located in the house,” Blaise murmured.

 

Draco closed his eyes, resisting the urge to judge his boyfriend. Harry was a Gryffindor and he really couldn’t help that saving people was his thing- it was just bloody irritating. And when he was dating a Slytherin he would just have to accept that Draco was _not_ going to let him be a self-sacrificing idiot. Harry was continuing however, and he listened attentively to his boyfriend’s words.

 

“I started having nightmares, horrible nightmares,” Harry said, “I would dream about going back to the Riddle House and then have nightmares where my loved ones died in horrible gruesome ways. And Riddle would taunt me in my nightmares, dropping clues and hints and-“ He grabbed at his hair in frustration but Draco swatted his hand away as he snarled, “I’m so _stupid_! It was so obvious it was him! I was so scared and I kept hiding it even when I could have told somebody. I- I think he was influencing me. When I looked in the mirror my eyes were red like his. I had to take the book and destroy it but-” His voice withered away and he just stared at his hands.

 

“Just because it’s obvious now,” Draco said patiently, “Doesn’t mean it was back then. You were scared, people don’t make the best decisions while they’re scared.”

 

“Still,” Harry said, his voice once again ripe with what Draco now realized was self-loathing, “I could have told someone.”

 

Blaise interrupted smoothly, “Actually Potter it’s likely you couldn’t have. It sounds like possession or at least the precursor to it. Malignant spirits or entities that spend enough time around someone can influence them or even possess them. If Tom Riddle’s ghost is bound to that diary, then he’s likely been preying on your mind. Not to be melodramatic, but he was probably intending to use you as a host to regain a body or some bollocks.”

 

They both stared at him and the Italian shrugged, “What? My mother insisted I learn about all manners of magical beings.”

 

“So it could have happened to anyone?” Harry said tentatively. Draco could hear the echoed ‘ _So I’m not weak?_ ’ behind it and felt his heart ache for his boyfriend.

 

“Most likely,” Blaise agreed, “Whoever Riddle is, he’s powerful. You don’t create Tainted Ground with just your standard run of the mill Dark magic. His spirit -if that’s what he even is- is likely equally powerful.”

 

“Thank you, guys for coming after me,” Harry mumbled, wiping his face awkwardly.

 

“Of course, I came after you,” Draco said, placing a kiss on his boyfriend’s head, “You need me, you prat.”

 

Blaise watched them with a smirk playing around his lips and said, “If you two love-birds don’t mind, we should be getting out of here.”

 

“Jealous, Zabini?” Harry shot at the Italian, smiling for the first time in days.

 

“Not of you two,” He sneered back.

 

Draco got to his feet alongside Harry and brushed off his dress robes. His mother would throw a fit, he looked like he’d been rolling in dust. Wand aloft, Draco followed Blaise to the door, keeping one hand clasped in Harry’s. Blaise wiggled the knob and it made a faint clicking noise but didn’t open. Draco felt his chest begin to tighten, panic threatening to set in as Blaise’s Unlocking Charm didn’t work either. Finally the dark haired teen gave up and kicked the door, swearing.

 

“It’s fucking locked!”

 

“Gathered that much,” Draco said bleakly.

 

Harry let out a slightly hysterical wheeze beside him, “Of course it’s bloody locked! Of course!”

 

“Calm down-“ Draco began placatingly.

 

“I am bloody calm!” He snapped.

 

“Clearly,” Blaise said dryly, “Both of you shut up. We need to find a way out.”

 

Harry raised his hand as Draco glared at him, “I vote for blasting the goddamn door down.”

 

Blaise nodded and spun around, firing a powerful Blasting Curse at the door. For a moment Draco thought he must have imagined it, the wood simply absorbing the curse, but when nothing exploded he gaped alongside Harry. Blaise was no shmuck when it came to spell-casting, it should have at least deflected it, not swallowed it. His stomach felt like it had turned to lead.

 

“Any better ideas?” Blaise asked into the silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought I was gone? Well too bad! Back at it again, it's ya boi dropping another dank chapter. Okay in all seriousness tho I have the rest of the story planned out bit by bit so it's really just making it look nice from here on out. To anyone who has commented, kudoed, bookmarked or subscribed, you are all gems and thank you so much. I really love this story and having other people love it too is awesome.


	5. Runes and Ruins

“We need to find a way out,” Harry repeated, voice cracking as his head turned towards the windows.

 

Draco privately thought that if someone was going to ward the door that powerfully, they probably wouldn’t leave the windows, but he remained silent. The dust was making his nose itchy and he tried to resist the urge to sneeze. Blaise didn’t look much more hopeful, but still sent a Blasting Curse at a window. Once again it was absorbed, not harming so much as the curtains. Harry swore and Blaise began stalking around the room, his wand raised and murmuring under his breath. Draco knew Blaise was much better at feeling resonances and magical residues, so he left him at it. However, he wasn’t going to just stand there either.

 

“What happened with the diary?” Draco said, edging towards Harry, “You said you tried to destroy it?”

 

Harry nodded and said bitterly, “Tried alright. Didn’t fucking work though. I tried to Incendio the bloody thing and then tried dropping it in a lake, but it just teleported back to me.”

 

“Do you still have it?” Draco asked, curious.

 

“Unfortunately,” He said with a grimace, pulling the book out of his back pocket, “I thought maybe I could burn it and the house to the ground but that didn’t work. My spell wouldn’t catch anything on fire in the house. And then he- he started talking in my head.”

 

Harry shuddered and Draco hugged him, unable to do anything else with his boyfriend looking so haunted. “We’ll get through this,” He whispered fiercely as he clung to him, “We’ll destroy the book and get out of this bloody house.”

 

“Draco come look at this,” Blaise said from across the room, interrupting whatever Harry was going to say.

 

“Why just Draco?” Harry asked sullenly as they pulled apart.

 

“Don’t be a prat Potter, it’s an open invitation. I just need Draco because he actually takes Ancient Runes.”

 

Harry snorted and wandered over to a dresser while Draco strode toward Blaise, glowing wand aloft. The Italian was standing in the large doorway to the next room. He gestured to the frame of the arch when Draco gave him a questioning look. Looking closer, Draco noticed runes carved into the wood. They were more jagged than the traditional shapes, but he could recognize what they were supposed to be. Even more disturbingly, dark stains filled the indents of the runes.

 

“Protection, warding, and . . .” He trailed off and bent down, staring at the runes that wouldn’t normally make sense together, “Why would there be runes of death as well as rebirth? Who put these here? Surely the Unspeakables wouldn’t have . . .”

 

“Ten Galleons to anyone who can answer those questions,” Blaise said dryly, “It looks like a simple containment string, but then why would there be runes like ‘hatred’ and ‘womb’? Unless . . .”

 

“Unless?” Draco prompted, stepping further into the other room to read the runes on the other side of the wall.

 

Blaise shrugged, looking a bit disturbed, “I could be wrong, but I’ve seen runes like this used to create magical catalysts. Look-“ He gestured to a rune that looked like a moon splitting apart surrounded by spirals, “This is a lunar rune that can mean strength and power, but also hatred and betrayal. It’s a Dark rune, most people don’t use it. It can draw on the energies of a powerful emotional residue when in alignment with the moon and give magical strength to whatever task the runes are meant for.”

 

“So it’s been drawing on the death of the Riddles every full moon?” Draco said, wrinkling his nose, “That has to be fifty years plus of power stored up!”

 

“Not just that,” Blaise said, “The Unspeakables and Aurors went missing too, according to Pansy. I’d bet a few Galleons that’s also created some powerful emotional residues. And look at this-“ He gestured to the rune that resembled a slightly flat circle with a smaller circle inside, “The womb rune repeats over and over, not to mention the containment runes. This entire house is a catalyst.”

 

“For what?” Draco whispered, unable to see any reason that didn’t make his skin want to crawl off.

 

Blaise shook his head and said, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

 

Draco stared at the runes, trying to figure out exactly what they meant, to pry the secrets from the wood. But there were some he didn’t even recognize, and while his Ancient Runes marks were always ‘O’s, he wasn’t a genius at it. Harry probably wouldn’t recognize any, but he wanted his boyfriend’s input anyways. He looked into the other room to call for him and the words dried up on his tongue. The room had changed, and Harry wasn’t in it.

 

The room now resembled a sitting area instead of the foyer. It was in as bad shape as the rest of the house, and when he looked behind himself he realized it was an exact copy of the room they were in. Not a glass shard on the ground was out of place. His heart kicked up ten notches in his chest as he blinked several times, sure he had to be imagining it. Harry couldn’t be gone- he couldn’t! Panic was threatening to swallow him whole, Harry had disappeared just like the Unspeakables. The magical catalyst must have eaten him- or a shadow monster- or-

 

“Are you okay Draco? You’re hyperventilating,” Blaise said, looking at him in concern.

 

“Look,” He croaked, pointing to the room they’d just exited.

 

Blaise turned around and made a soft sound of surprise. He stepped into the room and touched a still-intact vase, “It’s real- it’s not an illusion.”

 

“We need to find Harry!” Draco said, his voice thin as he struggled to calm down. He had to believe he was alive, he had to!

 

“We’ll find him,” Blaise promised, scanning the walls, “This is probably some kind of containment ward that loops the room you’re in. It activated when we stepped into the other room.”

 

Draco wanted to bang his head against the wall. Wasn’t that the rule of those muggle horror movies Harry always made him watch? Don’t split up? He hadn’t thought that stepping a few feet away would make a difference, but he should have known the second he saw the runes. His father would shake his head if he saw how foolish he’d been. Not to mention they’d been in the door sill. He let out a tiny gasp and turned to the doorway. The same room was through the archway, but he was more interested in the runes. Draco examined them, pulling on years of studying his ass off for Outstandings in Ancient Runes to figure them out. He would find Harry. There was no other option he would consider.

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

Harry glared at Blaise as Draco strode over to him. Hugging Draco had been like standing by a warm fire, he could have given them a couple minutes. It made him glow from the inside out knowing Draco had come after him, it nearly burned away the chill still lingering in his limbs. The book felt cold and heavy in his hands and he stared down at it in disgust. What he wouldn’t give to burn the damn thing, and the house along with it. For what felt like a century he’d cast fire spell after fire spell until finally he had collapsed. He had even managed a rather impressive Incendio Duo, -Hermione would have been proud- but it hadn’t managed to catch a single thing on fire.

 

Then Riddle had started talking, crooning to him really. Telling him of the people he had tortured, the things he had done. He had let him hear the echoes of their screams, the sobbing of a little girl was still enough to make Harry feel ill. ‘ ** _I can hurt everyone you love_** ’ he had promised him, voice filled with sadistic amusement. Harry wished he had never gone in the damn house in the first place, his hands were white knuckled where he gripped the journal. Acid wanted to crawl up the back of his throat. He had drawn Draco and Blaise here and now they were trapped because of him. He had done this.

 

**_And it will be entirely your fault when they die choking on their own blood._ **

 

 _Shut up!_ Harry thought furiously, Riddle’s laughter ringing in his ears. His voice was like the silky purr of a hunting cat in his mind, filled with bloodthirsty amusement. Harry shoved the diary in his back pocket again and tried to clear his mind. Draco had let him sit in on one of his Occlumency lessons once, and while Snape had been his usual snarky asshole-ish self, it had actually been useful. Sometimes while playing Quidditch he would use the mental exercises to focus. Now he tried to imagine a flowing river, and let all his thoughts fade away in the roar. For a moment it worked, his body relaxing.

 

**_Admirable for someone untrained, but you can’t keep me out Harry. I’ll always be here, watching you fail over and over until finally I get what I want. Give in Harry, it’ll cause you less grief in the end._ **

His concentration shattered like stained glass and he grit his teeth, _Get out of my head Riddle!_

 

**_Why in the world would I do that? No, I think I like it in here. So angry and immature, so many buttons to push and strings to pull. You’re so easy to manipulate it’s almost pathetic._ **

 

Harry didn’t bother replying, instead scanning the room for something to distract himself. He noticed a picture on the dresser he was standing near and moved closer. In the back of his mind he couldn’t help but feeling terror that Riddle was right, that he would be responsible for Draco and Blaise’s deaths. This was his fault. He picked up the picture frame, surprised it was still intact, and stared down at what appeared to be an older version of the boy in his dreams. Laugh lines were around his eyes and his arm was around a beautiful blonde woman. Tom Riddle Junior was motionless in the frame, giving away his Muggle origins.

 

**_Disgusting, isn’t it? Oh, he screamed beautifully when I showed him where he belonged. Have you ever cast the Cruciatus Harry? It’s a thrill like none other. But you need to mean it Harry, you have to want to cause them pain._ **

 

An image suddenly floated to the front of his mind. The older Riddle was on the ground, his limbs jerking and twisting wildly as his mouth was open in a scream. Drool was dribbling down his chin and his eyes were rolled back in his head. In the distance he could hear screams he somehow knew belonged to the blonde woman as she watched her husband being tortured. _Stop it!_ He snarled mentally, shoving the images away. Riddle just laughed, the sound echoing inside Harry’s head until it was unbearable.

 

“SHUT UP!”

 

Harry covered his mouth, surprised at himself for shouting. Worried, he glanced towards where Blaise and Draco had been standing to find they were gone. Air suddenly seemed thin as he realized he was alone, standing among the destroyed objects. Riddle was silent, but he could feel his amusement like a prickle on the back of his neck. Harry raised his wand, casting a stream of light into a desecrated sitting room. Why would they have left him? Without even saying anything. His breathing hitched, and he forced himself to clamp down on the sudden fear. He wasn’t a coward, he wouldn’t surrender to fear.

 

“Draco?” He called out, his voice painfully loud in the dead silent interior of the house, “Blaise?”

 

No answer. Harry gripped his wand tighter, feeling the beginnings of real panic setting in. Had something attacked them so swiftly and silently he hadn’t noticed? Had they just vanished like the Unspeakables were said to have? The chill in his body had returned in full fledge and he could feel something shifting in his mind. A subtle difference, like a variance in shade almost too difficult to see with the human eye. His eyelids felt heavy and for a moment he swayed. If he just closed his eyes he could rest, he could-

 

No.

 

He needed to find Draco, not fall asleep. Harry shook himself, frightened at how easily his mind had wanted to slip away. He wouldn’t give in. Giving up had never been in his nature, from the first Quidditch game he played to the wooing of Draco. Harry grit his teeth and strode into the sitting room, searching for any trace of the boys. Their footprints in the dust simply ended in the door frame and they weren’t in the hall beyond. They were just gone. A thud sounded from the hallway leading off and his head whipped around. The light of his Lumos didn’t quite illuminate the hall, leaving most of it in inky shadows.

 

“Draco?” He called out, stepping forwards.

 

Silence as thick as the dust on the ground met him. His heart was located so far up his throat he felt like he was going to vomit it out. For all his attempts to be brave, he couldn’t deny he was goddamn terrified. Harry entered the hallway moving slowly, wand aloft. The passage was mostly barren, only a few paintings on the wall, all with their subjects slashed out. A landscape painting was laid across the hall and Harry stepped over it carefully. He peeked into the study they had entered before. Rotted books littered the floor, the room the same as it’d been before. Harry moved on. He stopped outside double doors and pulled one of them open with a loud drawn out creak that made him cringe.

 

The room was a dining room, a large table sat in the center with a few chairs surrounding it. Any chairs missing from their places were thrown around the room or smashed in wood splinters. Cobwebs crept along the statues and sculptures on the sides of the room. Large windows were on the opposite wall to him at the end of the room, panes of glass black with night. In the center of the table what may have once been a chandelier was in a mess of glass and tangled metal. Dust was so thick on every surface it caused him to sneeze. He froze, looking around and expecting something to move at the noise. Nothing did.

 

Harry moved further into the room, sweeping his wand to cast a better angle of light. The shadows from the chandelier were twisted and tangled, and the dark shapes at the furthest reaches of his light were putting him on edge. He didn’t see Draco or Blaise though, so he turned around, prepared to continue searching. A child’s laughter rang out from behind him. Harry whipped around, heart pounding so loudly it was nearly deafening. The door slammed shut behind him and a strong gust swept through the room. Suddenly the room was melting and changing.

 

The chandelier was no longer broken and shattered, instead glittering with dozens of flickering flames on candles surrounded by glass where it hung from the ceiling. A warm glow filled the room and the windows showed a starry sky and thriving grounds. Platters of thick roast, bowls of sliced fruit, and filleted fish were laid out among other dishes, wafting delicious scents towards him. Instead of the chill that had filled the desecrated house, this room was filled with a warmth that was like being submerged in a heated bath. Nothing was broken, the room appearing how it must have in its prime. At the end of the table directly across from Harry was a child.

 

The child was dressed in dress robes, his dark chestnut hair neat and glossy. His face was gaunter than most children and his eyes were inhuman. They glowed red like twin rubies, equally as void of life as the gemstones. While his mouth was split into a childish smile, it didn’t meet his eyes and made him look rather demonic. Harry had never been afraid of a child before, but a chill traveled down his spine and settled in his bones. He raised his wand, extinguishing his Lumos cautiously in case he needed to cast quickly. When the child spoke his voice was young, yet articulate and cold enough it was unnerving.

 

“Have you gotten lost mister? You look scared.”

 

“Who are you?” Harry demanded, not lowering his wand, “What is this? An illusion?”

 

The child cocked his head, seeming to mull the question over, “An illusion? Hm, no, I don’t think so. Why are you scared? Are you running from something?”

 

Harry’s jaw worked as he tried to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to attack a child, but there was no way this was an ordinary kid. It looked like a miniature Tom Riddle and everything in him was on alert. The child smiled at his silence, something alien behind his eyes.

 

“Do your parents love you?”

 

“That’s none of your business!” Harry snarled, wand trained on the child.

 

He just giggled, the sound more like shattered glass than bells, “You’re awfully aggressive. Stressed out because your friends are dead?”

 

Harry didn’t think before he was firing a Stunner at the child. It sank into the kid’s chest and for a moment his eyes glowed unearthly red like twin flames. When the glow faded the child was unaffected. He examined Harry like he was a bug he was going to chop up and put into a potion. Harry glanced at the chandelier and considered sending a cutting hex at the chain to cause a diversion. Then a Blasting Curse on the door so he could escape. Before he could seriously consider the idea the child was speaking again.

 

“You know it’s your fault, don’t you?” He said, smiling a private smile, “You’ll never see them alive again and it will be _all your fault_. Poor Slytherins, led astray by a foolish lion. Now you’ll all die.”

 

The words hurt because they were exactly what Harry was thinking. He had done this, he had trapped Blaise and Draco here. Despair was slowly welling up inside of him and he shook his head sharply, spitting out, “Who are you?”

 

“Me?” The boy said, his teeth showing in a blinding smile, “You know me, Harry. And I will know you, more intimately than you know yourself. We’re two of a kind, both Parsletongues, both _powerful_. We could be great together, Harry, think of it.”

 

“I would never join you, you bastard!” Harry snapped, vibrating with anger, “What have you done with Draco and Blaise?”

 

The boy shook his head and sighed dramatically, “So rude, you assume _I_ did something. I’m not the only one here you know. Maybe they’ve had the honor of meeting one of my brothers. I always wanted a brother when I was younger, you know. Then I grew up and realized they were only weaknesses. My brothers here are only strength.”

 

Harry spoke quietly, each word laced with anger, “Tell me where they are.”

 

“Why in the world would I do that?” The boy asked, echoing the diary’s earlier words, “No, I’m having much too much fun with you. I wouldn’t want you to leave so soon.”

 

Harry had heard enough. He aimed his wand at the chandelier and shouted, “ _Diffindo_!”

 

The metal cut apart with a shriek and the chandelier fell down on the table with a crash. Glass shards went flying everywhere as Harry spun around towards the door. The child was standing there, back pressed casually against the door. He looked up at Harry with a too-big grin.

 

“You’re not trying to leave, are you? Dinner has only just begun,” His face darkened, the smile slipping away as he added, “Skipping dinner is awfully rude, you might get in trouble.”

 

“Move, kid,” Harry said, voice cracking with anger and no small amount of fear, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

He cocked his head, “Really? But _I_ want to hurt _you_.”

 

He raised his hand, palm out, and suddenly Harry was flying across the room. He crashed into the chandelier and screamed as he felt the glass shred his back. Harry rolled off the table and landed on his knees hard. Blood dripped down his back, pooling around him as his skin felt like it was on fire. His body shook as he tried to get to his feet, nearly falling over as he swayed from dizziness. Childish laughter sounded from beside him and his legs were kicked out from underneath him. Harry hit the ground hard, nearly biting his tongue off as he smashed his face.  He spat out some blood, jaw aching.

 

“Have you ever been kept somewhere small, Harry?” The boy asked him from beside him, “Somewhere dark and cold and lonely?”

 

Harry didn’t answer so the child continued, his voice nearly hiss, “I have Harry. And some would say the darkest place of all is your mind.”

 

Then he was laughing again and Harry could feel his mind slipping away. It felt like a blanket was suddenly covering him, muffling his hearing and slowing his breathing. The pain was finally numbing and his blood covered body was content to drift. Harry knew he had something important to do, but the details were fuzzy and hard to grasp. He could remember pale skin and fair hair, something warm. The images slowly bled into each other until it was a blank grey. Harry’s eyes closed, and he knew no more. The last sound he heard was Riddle’s content purr in his mind.

 

**_Finally . . ._ **

 

-oOo- -oOo- -oOo-

 

Draco kicked the wall, “Fuck!”

 

“Calm down,” Blaise snapped, looking up from where he was standing, “Panicking won’t help Potter.”

 

“I’m not panicking, I’m fucking pissed!” Draco said, glaring at the wall.

 

For the last few minutes he had been trying to figure out a way to destroy the runes, but nothing would work. Any spell he cast at them would simple crackle and fizzle away. He could feel panic fluttering around at the edge of his mind, growing each minute they spent away from Harry. It was a constant tug o’ war of trying to stay calm and losing his shit. Draco stepped away from the wall, trying to calm down. Blaise was right, panicking wouldn’t help anything. He needed to _think_. Once again he bent down to look at the runes.

 

After a few minutes Blaise broke the silence, “I think I’ve figured it out.”

 

“How?” Draco asked, immediately walking over to where the Italian was crouched.

 

“To simplify, I figured out the basis of the looping string. It’s based around an anchor because otherwise it would make the protections on the runes weaker. We just need to find the anchor,” Blaise said, his lips quirking into a self-satisfied expression.

 

Draco nodded, he’d heard of such a thing in Runes before, “How do we find it?”

 

Blaise straightened up and looked around, saying, “Fastest way would be to burn everything and see what doesn’t burn, but the house is warded against fire. It shouldn’t repeat in the other room though; the anchor should be unique to this room only.”

 

“Spot the difference,” Draco murmured, glancing into the other room, “I’m guessing we can’t search the other room either, considering the house can just split us up the second one of us stepped into the other room. We have to eyeball it.”

 

“Unfortunately,” Blaise agreed, staring into the other room.

 

They both began trying to figure out what did or didn’t repeat. Any time either of them could confirm an object was the same they would call it out. Seconds trickled by, Draco going as fast as he dared while not making a mistake. By the fourth minute he was on the edge of despair, his mind conjuring up images of what could happen to Harry while they were parted. He glanced back into the room they were in and glared at a particularly ugly hat trampled into the ground, then froze. It couldn’t be- he looked into the looped room and felt his elation rise. The hat wasn’t repeating.

 

“I found it!” He said, causing Blaise to turn.

 

“Where?”

 

“The hat,” Draco said, gesturing to it.

 

Blaise strode to the hat, pointing his wand at it and muttering under his breath. Probably checking for traps, Draco thought. He’d never really appreciated how paranoid the Italian was, but it really helped in situations like these. When Blaise was sure of whatever he was looking for, he picked up the hat.

 

“What are you going to do with it?” Draco asked, curious.

 

“Break the containment,” He said simply.

 

The Italian walked to the doorway and considered it for a moment, hat in hand. Then he simply raised the hat and pressed it through the archway. A snapping sound like shattering glass filled the room and cracks began spreading out from the runes while the hat seemed to be stuck in thick air. Blaise continued to push, forcing the hat further until there was a loud crack and the image of the sitting room shattered. They were faced with an empty foyer and when Draco glanced behind him he saw there was a hallway leading off the sitting room. His relief at breaking free was dampened slightly by the fact that Harry wasn’t there.

 

“Potter’s gone missing again,” Blaise sighed, “Bloody brilliant.”

 

Draco looked around the empty room, “Maybe he went looking for us. Could you use that tracking spell to find him?”

 

“Do you think I’m made of magic?” Blaise said irritably, but began casting nonetheless. His wand collected the same ball of golden light but this time when the thread shot out it kept changing direction. Blaise waved his wand and the light dispersed, “It won’t work. The house must be warded against it.”

 

“Fucking great,” Draco grumbled, “Looks like we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

 

He held his glowing wand ahead of him and made his way to the hallway. Blaise followed on his heel like a silent sentry, scanning the shadows. The hall was eerie in the stillness, all the paintings slashed. When they passed by the study Draco glanced in, but Harry was nowhere to be seen. Further down the hall were two double doors but they were locked when Draco tried them. Blaise’s Alohamora didn’t do anything to it either. Draco moved on, doubting Harry would have managed to open it when they couldn’t.

 

The hall ended in a proper longue, or what was left of it. Couches were vomiting stuffing, their cushions thrown across the room. A tea set was in shatters on the ground and the paintings lining the walls were completely blank, their canvases ripped apart on the ground. A large fireplace took up one wall, large windows on either side. The room itself was very spacious, clearly made to sit a fair amount of people. Three doors led off, two leading to hallways and one to what looked like stairs. Draco couldn’t be sure with the shadows that blanketed everything outside the reach of his Lumos. He was about to tell Blaise they needed to move on when he heard it.

 

A subtle whispering could be heard, like a conversation was taking place just out of sight. Draco swallowed hard, whipping his head around to look for the source. He could just barely hear it, for a moment he thought he was just imagining it. But when he focused it was still there, a sibilant hiss of words that couldn’t be made out. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat as he moved towards the sound. It took a few seconds, but he finally pinpointed the sound coming from a rather large wardrobe. It was firmly closed, and Draco reached for the handle.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Blaise voice startled him so badly he jumped. Draco looked back at him, saying, “Can’t you hear it?”

 

“Hear what?” Blaise asked, moving closer.

 

“There’s whispering,” Draco said, “It’s so quiet I thought I was imagining it, but it’s coming from this closet.”

 

The Italian just stared at him for a moment before shaking his head, “And you thought opening it was a good idea?”

 

“I-“ Draco broke off, unsure of why he thought opening it would be a good idea. He had just wanted to find the source, he hadn’t thought about it like that.

 

The choice was taken away from them, as at that moment the doors slowly opened. Blaise swore and trained his wand on the closet, but nothing leaped out at them. Draco peered inside and saw a mirror. His reflection looked back at him, even paler by the light of Lumos. He looked closer and saw something just out of sight by his shoulder. With a startled oath he spun around to see an empty room. Blaise grabbed his arm.

 

“Draco, look!”

 

He turned around again and froze. The thing over his shoulder was now at the front of the mirror. It had pale white skin, blue veins running under it. While the thing could have passed as humanoid, it was a twisted mimicry. Its arms were too long, hanging to its knees and its legs were long and spindly. The creature was naked but had no genitals. Pure red eyes watched them with a hellish glow, not even whites of its eyes showing. Its nose was flat and its facial features serpentine. When it smiled it had hundreds of needle sharp teeth. It raised a long pale hand and tapped on the glass, causing a fracture to spread out with a gunshot crack. Draco knew he had to run but his body was frozen, he couldn’t catch his breath.

 

“RUN!”

 

Blaise grabbed him and ripped him out of his daze. The Italian dragged him away, nearly carrying him until Draco could get his feet moving. Every breath was fire in his lungs, fear pouring through him as they raced down the hall. His mind felt crystal clear, knowing two things: one, if it caught them they would die, and two, if Harry had seen that thing he was likely dead. Draco stuffed those thoughts away and focused on not tripping over the painting strewn across the ground. Behind him he could hear more cracks until finally there was an explosion of glass. He didn’t look back, but the inhuman roar that followed them shook the house.

 

They pounded through the sitting room and met a dead end at the foyer. However, the room was no longer empty and Draco let out a shout when he saw Harry stood there with his glowing wand aloft. Draco launched himself at him and grabbed him in a fierce hug. Harry didn’t hug him back at first, but then his arms curled around Draco. He was warm and real and _alive_. Draco could feel his body shaking with suppressed emotion, fear and relief making him lightheaded when they collided. The smell of apples filled his nose as he buried his head in Harry’s shoulder. Behind them he could hear Blaise piling things in the door.

 

“I found you,” He whispered, “Thank Merlin! I found you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody has asked but I figured I'd clarify some things about the underage magic in case any of you are wondering. When they're in their homes they can use magic without worrying bc wards block the Trace from being tracked (for Draco) and with Harry the Ministry can't pinpoint it to him bc they just know underage magic was used but not by who so they just let the parents deal with it. In the Riddle House it's also blocked (although they don't know that) because of the wards on the house. So they're only really in shit for the stuff done on their way to find Harry and that they could definitely get away with because it was life threatening. It'll be dealt with later in the story but I figured I'd just clear it up now.
> 
> As always to anyone who has kudoed, commented, bookmarked, or subscribed, thank you so much. You guys are awesome. Especially the comments, comments make my day. And don't feel shy about saying anything negative. If I've messed up somewhere feel free to point it out, I'm not going to bite your head off. I want feedback, and feedback means the good and the bad. Thank you for reading, I hope you're doing well.


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